


ABC Challenge

by FBIEpidemic



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt Harvey, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-05-02 09:03:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14541315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FBIEpidemic/pseuds/FBIEpidemic
Summary: Roughly one shot for ever letter of the alphabet mostly all Hurt!Harvey





	1. Chapter 1

This is gonna be a Suits fanfic. It's a multi-chapter ABC challenge

Asphyxiation, Blunt Force, Cardiac Tamponade, Endocarditis, Gunshot, Head Injury, Iron Deficiency Anemia, Jaw Pain, Knee Cap Dislocation, Blue Lips, Myocardial Infarction, Nightmares, Olecranal, Perforated Eardrum, Quitting Smoking, Ribs, Scars, Toothbrushes, Vomiting, Wasp Sting, Xerostomia

Yelling, Zopiclone

Any of the letters I have left out are open for suggestions until I can come up with them

A is for Asphyxiation

Harvey Specter has a thing for ties. They're armor. Wrapped snugly around his neck, a constant reminder of his mortality and his invincibility, there is no room for the hands of an angered client or anyone else for that matter. Or at least, that's what Harvey had always thought because to put words to it would suggest that it was not a fact and if there's one thing that Harvey doesn't do it's put blind faith into things.

Too bad he's wrong. He's lost and he doesn't lose. Except as this big ogre, with his meaty fingers wrapped tight around Harvey's throat and a sickening joy in his eyes tightens his fist Harvey sees nothing but black and he knows that there is absolutely no way you could call this anything but losing.

As far back as he can remember, which isn't that far because his body is more focused on trying not to die than what Mike is doing, Mike had said he'd be right back after his phone cut Harvey off mid-lecture. Along with the overwhelming feeling of tiredness, Harvey feels a surge of anger. Mike never learns with that idiot Trevor. He just keeps pulling Mike back to him, making the kid run around all so that Trevor can just let him down all over again.

As the hand tightens again, which seemed impossible, Harvey feels himself slipping. As his vision starts to blacken, he sees the idiot that he calls- He'd called Mike kid. He's fond of him. Harvey shudders at the thought, he'll blame it on the lack of oxygen getting to his brain.

"Hey!" Mike rounds the corner, both of his skinny arms raised above his head as he holds a wooden crate. He brings it down on the ogre's head making him release Harvey's neck and thus resulting in Harvey falling to the ground, his legs unable to support his weight.

The ogre turns to face Mike but finds three police officers where he had been standing. They stand in a line, weapons drawn and shouting at the man to 'get on your knees'.

Mike falls to his mentor's side, gently tugging at Harvey's suit jacket. "Harvey? Harvey, can you hear me?"

Harvey wants to answer Mike, he really does. He wants to tell the kid to shove off, give him some space but he is just having trouble getting his lungs to work. It's like the air is getting stuck in his mouth and never getting to his lungs.

"Donna's gonna kill me," Mike mumbles, as takes in Harvey's face. The ogre had gotten a good couple of punches before pushing Harvey against the wall and judging from the red swell of Harvey's right hand, he had gotten in a few good shots of his own. If Mike had been here… Harvey wouldn't be like this.

The kid's bleeding heart was usually the source of Harvey's annoyance and amusement, as of now, it's the source of the burning feeling all over his body. "She is," his voice sounds like it's being squeezed out of a tube of toothpaste that's already been squeezed dry.

Mike waits for Harvey to do something, anything so that he knows that he can touch or comfort his mentor. Harvey never gives him anything.

Instead, Harvey flashes Mike a smile, the scar at the corner of his mouth drawing up even higher. He pushes his arms underneath himself and has his feet underneath himself as if nothing ever happened. "Pleasure doing business with you gentlemen," it's a good thing that the men who hired the ogre were getting into a pretty heated argument just outside the alley where Harvey was quite literally being held because it drove the police over. Thus saving everyone's ass'.

It's just at the end of the alley, only seven steps from the spot where the ogre is being cuffed that Harvey sways. Mike jumps at the sudden contact his mentor makes as Harvey puts a hand on Mike's shoulder.

"Harvey?" Mike returns the gesture by putting both of his own hands on his mentor's shoulders. Worry etched into every move he's making.

Harvey glances up at Mike and just as he passes out he makes sure Mike hears him mumble," Donna's gonna kick your ass." And that all he has left to fight with. So with that, all of Harvey Specter's' 175 pounds, a six-foot-long body falls into Mike's smaller arms.

"What was that for?" The voice is hard, accusing and so very annoying. Definitely Mike.

"Oh, so you get to get him hurt, let him pass out, and now you just think you're gonna sleep?" This voice is mad, pissed is a better word for it. "If I have to sit here and freak out, then so do you." Donna. God, he loves this woman.

"So you had to smack me?" Harvey can only imagine the pouting look that Mike must be sporting.

Donna scoffs, Harvey feels his hand being moved," what do you think Harvey would tell you? Do you think he'd pity your sob story?"

Harvey cracks an eye open to that, going unseen by both his visitors. "He most certainly would not."

He wouldn't say that Donna and Mike are the only people he has to love left but they both know he wouldn't say it even if it wasn't true.

As both, his visitors rise to their feet Harvey chooses to ignore the warmth of Donna's hand being pulled away.

"Harvey." Mike's up from his visitor's chair, coming to the side of the bed. Harvey fears that Mike actually hug him.

"Where's my suit?" Harvey fingers the rough material of the gown and sends a disgusted look to Donna.

"They cut it off of you," Mike whispers, his blue eyes drifting to the ground in shame. "I managed to save your tie and suit jacket."

Harvey's eyes comically bug out of his head, but it's not that funny when you see the nasty bruise around his throat. "What? Mike, the jacket's no good to me without the vest and pants. They're a set, collect-"

"I know. I know," Mike puffs. "They're a three-piece and you can't break sets up."

Harvey shakes his head and glances to Donna still standing just to his right.

"But you're okay?" Mike asks, a kicked puppy look hidden in teary blue eyes. "Now at least?"

Harvey scuffs, his mouth always getting ahead of his brain," no thanks to you." That kicked puppy only gets worse and Harvey finds himself tripping over his own tongue. "I didn't mean it like that, kid. I'm-I'm.."

Mike looks at his mentor with surprise written across his head but guilt in his eyes. Is Harvey about to say he's sorry?

Harvey lets out a lung full of air and looks Mike square in the eyes," Mike, I didn't mean that and I'm...I'm sorry."

Mike grins wide, making Harvey's mood flat line," Harvey Specter just apologized. Donna, I thought they said that there was no brain damage. Je-"

Harvey shakes his head," no. No. No, done. We're done."

This kid is gonna be the death of him… in one sense or another.


	2. B is for Baseball

This is gonna be a Suits fanfic. It's a multi-chapter ABC challenge

Asphyxiation, Baseball, Cardiac Tamponade, Endocarditis, Gunshot, Head Injury, Iron Deficiency Anemia, Jaw Pain, Knee Cap Dislocation, Blue Lips, Myocardial Infarction, Nightmares, Olecranal, Perforated Eardrum, Quitting Smoking, Ribs, Scars, Toothbrushes, Vomiting, Wasp Sting, Xerostomia, Yelling, Zopiclone

Any of the letters I have left out are open for suggestions until I can come up with them

B is for Baseball

Mike had no previous knowledge to what everyone was calling the 'Most Dangerous Game' (he'd made the costly mistake of asking if they all meant the book, that got him kicked out of the coffee room). He asked Harvey but the older man just told him to wait until Saturday. They exchanged a few more words and then as Mike was leaving the door, Harvey told him to be ready before seven o'clock Saturday morning that he and Donna would be picking Mike up.

It's not until the Friday, that Mike spots the flier.

Mike's face falls, not that far considering how today was going, and his shoulders with it. "You gotta be kidding me," he whispers it, his left hand coming up to tear the flier off the wall. Numb legs take him to Harvey's office where he opens the door with little to no regard to the older man's reaction to him barging in.

"Oh help yourself," the older man grunts without looking up from his laptop. "Walk on in, Mike, you know I'm never doing anything important now please distract me with your pointless wims." He turns now, eyes tired and annoyed, to Mike and waits for the young to begin badgering about God knows what.

"Tell me this is optional," Mike doesn't have to even hold the paper up for Harvey to understand what the kid is complaining about. The only thing that is ever printed in color at Pearson Hardman is the annual baseball game. "I suck at sports."

Harvey grins, his mood lifted from the slums of despair in which it had previously fallen," oh no. You're going, kid, and I'm picking you up." Harvey leans back in his chair, that wicked grin still plastered across his face," seven o'clock sharp. You already agreed, plus you have to go. You can't get out of it."

Donna, who had no doubt been listening to their conversation the moment Mike lurked past her, sticks her head into Harvey's office with a huge smile. "Mikey, how can you not be ecstatic for the baseball game! It's the best!"

That question, the entire firm, would learn the answer at 10:35 Saturday morning and they most likely won't ever forget it.

"And here I thought you had no concept of time." Just fifteen minutes before, Harvey had sent Mike a text reminding the kid to outside his apartment at 6:50. If Mike's ratty looking grey sweatshirt and wrinkled jeans are any indication, Harvey's "heads up" text was most likely what roused the blond.

"Mmm." Is Mike's simple answer and Harvey feels his mood drop just a bit but then Donna nudging him moves his attention.

"I don't have any-" she'd nudged him to hand him three advil and then watched in horror as he tosses them all back and dry swallows them. "I am both turned on and disgusted," even he knows that the only reason Donna can get by with a sentence like that is well because she's Donna.

Mike twists his face into an appalled look, his parents may have died long before he could begin to become disgusted in the coupley things that married couples do but Donna and Harvey are really making up for it. Which he finds odd, how easily he can just think of Harvey and Donna as being a couple.

From Mike's apartment, it's a short drive to the park and like a sore thumb, Mike immediately sticks out from everyone else. Everyone within' the span of the park is decked out in Harvard attire, even Donna who seems to be wearing one of Harvey's t-shirts with leggings.

"Kid," Mike turns quickly, causing dust to erupt under his feet from the quick movement. Harvey, over the roof of his very expensive car, is holding a Harvard t-shirt. It's old, Mike doesn't have to hold in his hands to know that. "Put the shirt on."

Tugging his oversized sweatshirt and his other t-shirt with it, he slides Harvey's on. The material is soft and smells like Harvey which Mike finds odd for only a moment before he decides that it's nice.

Donna leans close to him, as they walk to the field," that's his favorite shirt so don't tear it." She winks at him before jogging to catch up with Harvey. Mike watches as she tugs the older man close to her and whispers something to him earning her a deep chuckle.

Mike looks down at the ratty t-shirt and wonders what exactly Harvey would do if Mike did tear the shirt. He's so caught up in this thought that by the time Louis has his arm over Mike's shoulder, his mind is too displaced to keep up with the words coming from the junior partner's mouth.

"I hope you're ready for this, Ross. This baseball game means a lot and for the first time in years, I think we can beat Specter."

Mike, now only a little afraid of what Louis could mean by that, asks," why do we need to beat Harvey?" If he recalled correctly, you only need two teams for baseball and Harvey had never said anything about them being on different teams. Harvey would tell him, wouldn't he?

"You're on a team with me, Ross, and you're the best weapon we could ever hope to get against Harvey." Louis looks proud of this statement but Mike's still confused, how is he gonna help?

Louis sees the confusion in the younger man's blue eyes, not that it's hard since the boy wears all of his emotions straight across his face. "Ross, listens, I know I haven't been the best… boss but if you help me win this game, I'll be like your best friend." Louis leans close, closer than Mike would ever like the weasel of a man to be," a way better pal than Harvey."

Mike would never call Harvey his 'pal' but he had called Harvey dude, he's not sure if that necessarily counts.

"Just think about that, R-" both Louis and Mike look up at the sound of Harvey shouting Louis' name. Both pale in fear at the aggression Harvey demonstrates as he stalks over to them.

"You sly son of a bitch. Do you think you'll get by with this? I'll kick your ass, I don't need Mike." Harvey points a finger at Louis, one that Mike would never want pointed at him.

However, Louis seems unphased and smiles. "I know you don't need him but you certainly won't break him like you'll try with all the others."

It's like he wasn't even there. Harvey just scoffs," you think he can… Louis, have you not seen the arms on him? Mike can't hit a ball and he certainly can't throw one. He's never played a sport in his entire life." Harvey's prize winning smile it wiped off when Louis smiles back, for the first time Harvey feels like he's lost.

"Just wait for Specter, this year's tournament is mine."

Mike doesn't understand baseball so it took him into the third inning to understand the complications and betting that goes into the terminate and by then it was way too late.

"Keep your chin up, Ross." Louis had instructed. "You saw the way Harvey threw but he won't do that to you."

Watching Mike walk to the bag, Harvey rubs his shoulder. Whatever Donna had given him in the car was doing nothing now to dull the pain in his shoulder, and Donna knows it. She'd already raised hell once, doing more than just convincing him to let Rachael pitch a round. Judging from crossed arms, she's already thinking about dragging him out again. So he leans forward, smiles at all the incorrect and weakness of Mike's stance, and reves back to deliver a pitch that's meant to be fast. His shoulder hitches, throwing off not only the speed but the trajectory, and gives Mike a ball to hit that he should be able to hit with his eyes close.

Unfortunately, that's exactly what Mike's doing. Before he even got to the plate, he needed a little pep talk. He'd struck out twice before, he'd deny it but it's all because he kept closing his eyes. So this time, he's convinced himself that he'll not only keep them open but he'll take a swing at every ball.

So that's what he does. The moment Harvey's body moves forward, Mike's eyes snap shut and the only thing that makes them open is the tingling of the bat in his hands as the ball makes contact. He's not sure how he did it, isn't even sure how to move so he watches the ball.

Just like everyone else.

Harvey let a shit-eating grin cross his face at the crack of the bat. Maybe, just maybe, the kid would get a run in and if so Mike would tie the game up and in that case losing might be optional.

He scoffs at himself, losing? No. Not okay.

That grin, falls as the ball that left his hands only moments ago comes back ten fold straight for him. It comes back too fast, so fast that he stands no chance at catching it before it hits him.

"Harvey!"

It feels like only a moment passed. Just enough time for Harvey to blink and then… Harvey's not sure. He's laying down, and he only knows that because his shoulder is bent and white flames lick at it, and all around him are peering eyes all looking down at him.

He pushes himself up, using his good arm, and a wave of nausea washes over him forcing him to down onto his back once again.

"Harvey?" It's Donna and he only knows that because her red hair tickles his face.

Jessica looms over him too, his eyes are pulling into focus, still trying to decide whether or not she should call an ambulance.

"'M fine." He seats up, this time with Donna there to put her hand on his back and push when the nausea comes back, this time making his vision swirl right alongside his stomach.

"Harvey, I'm so sorry. I don't know how I did that, I didn't even have my eyes open! I wasn't gonna swing but I kept getting struck out so I just-" big blue puppy dogs eyes look like they're seconds from shedding tears.

Harvey interrupts the kids rambling with a steady hand and his smooth business voice to disguise his frayed nerves," Kid, calm down. It was nothing, I'm fine."

The entirety of that statement is blown the moment he tries to stand. Everything goes black and for a moment he thinks he's passed out again that is until Donna calls his name and he finds himself blinking away his pain. "T-Those pain pills you gave me," Harvey stutters now letting himself use Donna and Jessica as aid to stand," suck."

Donna chuckles at his poorly timed humor," don't worry, they'll give you something better at that hospital." She gives him a coy smile of her own.

He groans, she's not sure if it's from pain or just annoyance. "No hospitals."

Mike comes to his side, dutifully taking Jessica's spot.

"You're going to the hospital." Jessica states, in what can only be explained as her 'I'm the boss' voice.

"Yeah," Mike agrees, slightly shocked at just how much Harvey weighs. For a guy who hardly eats and spends most of his time at an office, Harvey's freaking heavy.

"Shove it, pup." Harvey rolls his head to look at Mike and they share a knowing glance. Mike supposes it's all too bad. Maybe if he'd hit Harvey a little harder... Too late now, though. Harvey would be just fine.


	3. C is for Cardiac Tamponde

This is gonna be a Suits fanfic. It's a multi-chapter ABC challenge

Asphyxiation, Baseball, Cardiac Tamponade, Dad, Endocarditis, Gunshot, Head Injury, Iron Deficiency Anemia, Jaw Pain, Knee Cap Dislocation, Blue Lips, Myocardial Infarction, Nightmares, Olecranal, Perforated Eardrum, Quitting Smoking, Ribs, Scars, Toothbrushes, Vomiting, Wasp Sting, Xerostomia

Yelling, Zopiclone

Any of the letters I have left out are open for suggestions until I can come up with them

C is for Cardiac Tamponade

(Aka what if Mike hurt Harvey more than either of them realized after their fight in 5x16)

Harvey rubs his palm, there was a journal he had happened upon that had stated that rubbing at the nerves in your palm could ease anxiety, praying that maybe that would ease his overwhelming feelings. His tumbler, still full of a amber liquid that he can't remember the name to, chills his fingers tips and it's ice works up his arms.

He throws the glass, not caring about the amber liquid or the mess, officially starting their fight.

Technically, their 'fight' had begun long before Harvey's tumbler glass collided and shattered against the cabinets only feet from Mike's head. For only a moment, Mike felt fear make his heart beat in his ears but anger replaced it because Harvey was a pitcher. He knows his strength and he can aim, he would never hit Mike.

"You wanna go to prison, rule number one: never turn your back on anyone." The anger shared between them is harsh and words that neither have the power to take back are about to be exchanged.

Mike tries to remain calm, losing his head will result in Harvey winning this argument and right now Mike needs to win… something. "I know what you're doing and it's not working."

Harvey is long past who wins and who loses. "I'm not trying to take your place anymore, I'm just trying to get you ready like Gloria Danner asked me too because you're weak." Harvey proceeds forward, edging closer and closer to Mike.

"Harvey I am not weak."

"Really?" Mike can hear the threat long before he feels the shove against his chest. "Then hit me."

Mike had watched Harvey be punched and give punches without so much of a flinch. He had seen the man box and no matter how hard Mike can punch, Harvey is gonna get right back up and kick his ass. "No Harvey listen-"

Harvey pushes him harder. "No, you listen to me."

From there Mike loses focus. He repeats his earlier statements, saying Harvey's name over and over, trying to spit out a full sentence. The word guilt leaves his mouth but Harvey doesn't even hear it and then he hears the one name that, well that he just can't control his reaction to.

"...Logan Sanders. What do you think he's gonna do with her the second you get behind-"

Mike punches Harvey, using all of the pint up anger and fear that he's felt since the whole shit show began. "Is this what you wanted?" Mike knows, for a fact, that it is. It's like Clifford Danner all over again, except Harvey isn't doing it for time and he needs it. He needs it because for whatever twisted reason this is the only way Harvey is going to get over all of this. "For me to hit you?" The Mike Ross that Harvey knew all those years ago, who stumbled into a job with a briefcase full of weed, is far from present.

The man delivering two and three punches to Harvey unprotected sides is in pain.

"You made me do this! I'm going to lose everything because of you!"

Harvey can keep up with Mike, he may not be as young as he once was but he's been boxing for years. Harvey loses it all for a moment, he opens his eyes and he's on the ground. The air has been kicked out of him, he knows the feeling all to well.

Harvey can hear Mike sobbing from just a few feet away and as he glances under the furniture he can see that Mike has slid down the wall and rest with his pulled to his chest. He needs to call out, to tell Mike there is a crushing weight on his chest and he can't breathe.

"D-Donna." Her name had meant many things over the years. She was his secretary. The women he didn't defend. The woman who holds his heart. The woman who he loves so much that he panics because of his lack of control. She is the woman he needs now, the only person who can make him feel okay. Mike can tell him that he's okay but Donna, you see, she could wrap her fingers around his neck and tell him that everything would be okay and… he would believe her.

Harvey thinks he hears Mike say his name but his chest feels like it's being stomped on and the pain is up to his neck.

Is this what his father felt?

"Harvey," those blue puppy dog eyes are staring right at him, looking down just dripping care all over the place. Harvey smiles because God, Mike just cares. He cares so much and Harvey doesn't deserve it. "Harvey answer me!"

His vision is going black and panic surges through him, he can't die. He hasn't saved Mike yet!

"Harvey!" The kid shakes Harvey's shoulder bringing the older lawyer's eyes fluttering open. "Tell me what's wrong! Are you having a heart attack?"

Harvey tries to think for a moment and ultimately shakes his head, deciding 'no this isn't what a heart attack feels like'. He has one clear thought, it's the only one not muddled in black or being suffocated out, Donna. He doesn't have enough strength to grab at his tie and loosen its noose-like grip around his neck but just before he passes out he moves his hand up, clutching Mike's shirt, and mumbles," get Donna."

Mike is no virgin to loss. At eleven it happened quickly, after harsh words and crying his parents were gone just like that. Mike sometimes still wonders if he hadn't said what he'd said to his father if they wouldn't have wrecked. His father wouldn't have been emotionally compromised and maybe… no, there was nothing to be done. You can never go back. Working under Harvey, Grammy died. She was there, talking with Rachel and meeting Harvey and then she was just gone. He couldn't do anything either of those times and now he can't do anything again.

He's stuck here, confined by off-white walls decorated with cheap paintings and even cheaper furniture.

"Mike!"

Rachel burst through the doors and he thinks back to Harvey. Alive Harvey yelling at him, reminding him of his rash decision and then their fight. The doctors had said that their fight was most likely what saved Harvey's life.

All he can remember is something about swelling, a pericardium, and a short but risky procedure. Whatever that means.

Mike is surrounded by Rachel, her arms wound tight around his sagged shoulders. His mind flashes back, he's laying there with Harvey. He had pulled the older man's head into his lap, that was supposed to improve blood flow and… comfort. Yet, as he pulled Harvey closer he wondered how much the older lawyer had over worked himself because it was shockingly easy to pull the 6'2 man across the floor.

"How is he?" Mike looks up and Donna's right there, had he called her like Harvey asked? He can't remember. Her red hair is swept up, something her nimble finger had done recently because with her entrance drags the scent of strawberry shampoo indicating her rushed dressing.

Mike looks down at his shoes, he isn't sure if he can force the words out.

"Goddammit, Mike!"

Mike flinches at the outburst, he has never heard Donna sound so angry but then her voice quivers and he realizes that she isn't mad at him she's mad because she's powerless.

"Mike," she pleads," I need you to tell me."

He nods his head feeling just a bit of strength as Harvey's words playing in his head instead of his guilt laced thoughts: get Donna. "He… We had a fight. He lied and then… He told me to hit him, to prove that I could handle jail. He mentioned…" Mike glances at Rachel for only a moment before his eyes cast back to the bleach scrubbed floors under his shoes. "He wanted to get me worked up and he did. He's always been good at things like that," the last statement is stated with a coy look that quickly falls away. "I hit him, a couple of time. He hit the ground and… he said your name." He looks up at Donna, tears threatening to fall down both their eyes, "So I looked up and he was… he couldn't… couldn't breathe. I couldn't do anything, it's something to do with his heart. Um… his pericardium? They said something about there being damage and that he was lucky that I… that I shoved him because otherwise he most likely would have…" He stops because so far that word had only been thought. It was in the back of his mind, a reminder that it was so very possible but now to put words to it means that it could have happened.

"He would have died." Donna turns away from them, giving Mike and Rachel full view of her grey sweatpants (that are on backward) and twisted Harvard law school shirt. "Alone. He would have been alone."

Mike leans into the Rachel as she presses a kiss to his forehead. How is that Harvey has this affect on them? Harvey that is a complete asshole, the most narcissistic person most people know, and single-handedly the most emotionally cut-off person ever. Yet, Mike will be crushed if Harvey doesn't make it.

"Family of Harvey Specter?"

That almost breaks Mike too because where is Harvey's family? His brother is living another life, long gone and cut off. His mother… well isn't she the reason Harvey is the way he is? And his father…

"Yes, can you tell me how he is?" Donna jumps right in, not worried that by standards she is not family but as far as the signed papers in the nurse's arms, Mike and Donna are as good as it's going to get.

"Yes ma'am." The nurse pulls the file open," Mr. Specter came in with a condition that we call Cardiac Tamponade, it's a condition where the pericardium, the sac just around the heart, fills with blood and stops the heart." The nurse waits just long enough that Donna fills panic envelop her. "We did some blood work and were able to extract the blood and repair his pericardium. I need you to understand that his body has been through a lot within the last 48 hours. He is not in immediate threat but he is exhausted so visitors will not be allowed for another hour."

The nurse gives them a curt nod before digging into her pocket," is there a… Michael Ross?"

Mike stands, even raising his hand," yeah."

The nurse smiles and hands him a crumpled piece of paper," shortly before Mr. Specter lost consciousness he insisted that you get this." The warm paper is pressed into his hand and the nurse gives them one last smile before disappearing behind the doors she came from just moments before.

"What's it say?"

Mike unfolds the paper and tears swell in front of his iris'. He shoves the paper towards Donna and walks briskly for the red EXIT sign just feet away.

On the paper, in Harvey's handwriting, are four simple words: Not Your Fault Kid.

Harvey remembers the pain in his chest but he can't think past that. The pain now is dull but there is a tension headache building at the base of his skull.

The constant beeping to his left has him spooking himself awake, his mind screaming that he's woken up late and that his alarm clock is going off.

"Woah!" His sore chest collides with a hand or rather the hand with his chest. "Harvey calm down."

The smell of cheap cologne fills his senses and he can visualize the skinny tie Mike must be wearing right now but as he looks over, Mike's not wearing a suit and he's not in his apartment.

"What happened?" He reaches up, to rub at the chest but his hand catches and he follows the IV in his arm up to the bags of saline that are attached to him.

Harvey can only assume cause Mike just reads guilt. Mike looks down at his feet," your heart, there was some bleeding." Mike looks up, blue puppy dog eyes meeting soft brown ones," you almost died."

Harvey grunts in response, he doesn't trust his voice for anything more.

"Harvey!" Donna gives the coffees she had to Rachel, who was following behind the red head and gives it all she has to not run to her old employer. "Oh God," it's not until she's got both arms wrapped around him that she realizes what kind of shape he's in.

His shirt was cut off in the E.R., leaving his chest bare now with only thick gauze taped over his heart. Folded carefully over his lap is a blanket, one that should be tucked up to his neck if his chilled skin is anything to go by. His usual untanned skin is paler than usual, almost purple under the hospital lights. Brown eyes, usually alert and sharp, are muddled by drugs and look like they're about to drop shut.

"Donna…" she kisses him and as she pulls away it's more comforting than words allow to see that Specter smile dance across his lips.

"Mike just said something about my heart, if you're not careful another kiss like that might just stop it."

Donna lets out a small giggle, hiding it behind her hand. "Harvey," her voice gives away the fact that although she's laughing she's only moments away from crying.

Harvey reaches out, taking her hand and giving her a small nod. "It's alright."

Donna nods in agreeance and then softly threatens," if you ever do anything like that again-"

"You'll kill me," Harvey smiles at them. "Gotcha."

Surprisingly it's Rachel who adds," I'm glad you're okay, Harvey."

He smirks at her, and Mike is afraid that he might shrink away from the attention that he doesn't. Harvey sinks farther into the pillows, his eyes dropping more," hey. Somebody has to watch out for the kid, right? It's just my job."

And it is hands down the best damn job Harvey has ever had.


	4. E is for Early Mornings

A hand, cold and hard, connects with her cheek. A husky voice, protruding somewhere underneath the blanket wrapped around them both, mumbles," watch out."

An unnerving amount of distaste and annoyance overcomes over Donna and all because of the lump of a man tangled in her limbs. "Ha-" she jerks the blanket up and her voice falters away. Sometime in the night, Harvey has ebbed closer to her than when they had fallen asleep.

He was so exhausted when they came home that he had fallen asleep on the edge of the bed, the suit still on. Donna tugged his suit off and undid his belt, not nearly as steadily as she usually does, and let it fall to the side. She could hardly get him to his pillow, so she left him on the edge of the bed, half his body threatening to fall off.

Now, his head is on her stomach, one of his arms wrapped around her stomach and his legs tangled in hers. Their bed sheets were tangled tightly around him, at this moment he looked more like a child tangled in the blankets instead of a half naked man, known best for his closing skills. This profound closeness, makes her heart swell with content.

Donna leaves the blanket pulled back, little goosebumps blossoming across her naked skin. She reaches out and runs a hand through Harvey's hair, a small smile finding its way on her lips. She likes him like this. Silent and content, both things he rarely was lately.

"...can't." His face contorts and Donna tilts her head, watching his eyebrows scrunch. "Mike…" his body relaxes and Donna makes a mental note to ask Harvey about his dream.

"...stop...don't wanna...get Mike…" Harvey's entire body flinches and his arm tightens around Donna, making her feel more like a safety blanket than a wife. At the same time, she runs her hand over the sinewy muscles and can feel his breathing even out. He relaxes under her touch and she finds this mesmerizing.

She settles back down, pulling the blanket tighter around them both and leaves her right hand resting warmly on his back and without another word from Harvey, she falls into a deep sleep.

"What?" Donna didn't need to look at the image on Harvey's blackberry to know that it was Mike calling, even though the picture of Mike's face plastered on a baby's body is pretty unforgettable. "What could you possibly need at this hour?"

Mike is caught, not very sure what to do. "Well… I needed Harvey but…"

Donna rolls her eyes and sneaks a glance at Harvey, whose snoring never breaks. "And I answered? Well, let me tell you what, pup, you better pray you didn't wake up my child because if you did, you're going to come over here and babysit her."

Mike winces at the thought. He really does love Lee, she's the best parts of Donna and Harvey and that's why she can be a handful. She's four years old and can argue her way into getting whatever she wants and if that doesn't work, her charms do. "I just need to talk to Harvey, really."

Donna scoffs but does not move to wake her husband, who turned over on his side looks like a corpse. "What do you need him for?"

Mike rattles off something about Louis and some files.

Donna shakes her head," you see pup, this is why Harvey married me. You don't need him, photocopy those files and send them to Harvey's laptop. Louis is not a problem, he's just grumpy about his some of his bars being stolen from the break room." She yawns into her hand," do that and be over here in half an hour."

Mike lets out an exasperated sigh," oh no, I woke her up?"

Donna smiles," no, dear, but I am going to make pancakes and I assume you would like some of those."

Mike nods, even though she can't see it," yes! Okay, see you in a sec."

No sooner than Donna puts the phone down, two arms wrap around her waist. "Why is the puppy coming over?"

She turns into the arms, resting her face in his bare chest. "I am going to make pancakes and he doesn't eat enough."

Harvey hums and she feels content. She wishes that they could stay like this forever. So close that she isn't sure where she ends and he begins. She wants to stay forever tangled in Harvey Specter. If they stay like this, Lee never grows older, she doesn't have to watch Harvey work himself to the point of breaking, she won't feel Lee's first heartbreak or Harvey's last breath. She holds him tighter at the thought. He had once joked about that, saying that he would be fine with going first. He had broken her heart when he had looked so crush and whispered 'I couldn't do it without you, but you can do it without me'.

"Is he bringing Rachel?"

Donna nods," 'course. Mike knows Lee likes Rachel better, he's trying to win her over using his wife." She brushes her thumb across his skin," he's an idiot."

Harvey kisses Donna's forehead," he learned from the best."

Donna smiles and nods her head," that he did."


	5. F is for Fracture

When he received the email from the American Bar Association he had thought very little of the hyperlink that was supposed to tell him what he should do if a client threatened bodily harm because evidently there was some rise in attorney's being harmed by their clients. Harvey just rolled his eyes, no way in hell was he going to take advice from the Bar Association. He deleted the email and didn't think anything else of it.

Perhaps, he should have read it maybe it would have had some advice he could use now.

"He was talking up my girl!" It took approximately one beer for Harvey's evening to be ruined.

Harvey turns to Mike, giving him a look that obviously spells a very a long speech about chatting up random girls in pubs that are located on the bad side of Manhattan. "Did you?"

Mike shakes his head," no, of course not! She-"

Harvey is half turned back to the man accusing Mike of… of whatever it is exactly that he thinks Mike did when he feels two hands land solidly on his back. They grip the leather jacket he wore for the occasion, he and Mike landed another huge fish for the firm and Mike offered drinks, even said he'd pay for them, both of them know Harvey won't let him. He's pulled back, thrown to the side as if he weighed nothing at all.

The man takes dangerous steps towards Mike, who stands frozen in his spot unsure of what to do without Harvey right beside him to mediate the situation. Harvey struggles to his feet, knowing he has to fight through his pain to help Mike.

"Listen," Harvey's voice is wavering, making him sound nothing like his usual cocky self. "The kid didn't mean anything by talking to your…"

The angered man pays Harvey almost no mind," girlfriend."

"Right, he didn't mean anything by it. We're out to celebrate, he was just trying to have a little fun. Knowing how he is, I wouldn't worry about him, he can't flirt his way out of a wet paper bag." It's becoming increasingly harder to ignore the fire in his shoulder, he wishes he could not place the pain as well as he does but he knows a broken bone when he feels one.

The man, now being backed by many sober friends who are all trying to get him back to the pool table he hailed from, nods accepting this. He does, however, point one last finger at Mike," stay the hell away from my girl, hear me?"

Mike nods eagerly, still dumbstruck by the whole situation. As soon as the man is pulled away by his pals, Harvey lets out a pained grunt. "Get your crap, Mike. We gotta go."

Harvey knows better than to move too much, clavicles are one of the worst bones in the body to break. He wishes he had just tucked into the fall instead of bracing his fall and of course it had to be his right shoulder.

When Mike bumps into him, he feels his body tumble back and for a moment he thinks he might pass out, at least, he wishes he would. However, an arm grabs his shirt. "Harvey?" Mike had only ordered one beer, Harvey had reluctantly ordered one too and after the amount of talking they did, Harvey had still hardly touched his when Mike got up to go the bathroom. So the stumble that Harvey had just done was not alcohol-related.

"I'm fine," he pushes against the hand, making his way to the door. "Go get a cab." He pushes Mike away, forcing the man forward, away from Harvey.

Mike, for once, does as he is instructed, too afraid to honestly do anything else. It takes only a moment, there are cabs all over the street waiting for someone to need them. "Hold up, my… pals still in the bar. If you stay I'll tip you generously tip." Something he knows he can say because he might be able to get Harvey to pay for the taxi.

"Harvey!" He almost doesn't see his boss propped just outside the door. His dark leather jacket, an expensive looking one if Mike's correct about the brand, blends all too well with the shadows. Mike has to backtrack and by the time he sees Harvey, the man is already limping to the cab.

"For an old guy, you sure can hobble quick." Mike wishes he could take back his remark the second he sees the pain etched in Harvey's eyes. Funny how that works, Mike doesn't think he's ever heard Harvey say he's in pain but he still knows the look.

Harvey eases himself into the cab as carefully as he can manage, praying he doesn't hit his shoulder as he leans back. "Call Donna," he whispers once Mike has settled beside him.

Mike checks his pockets and anxiety bubbles in his chest. "Harvey…"

The older man lets out a deep breath," my phone is in my pocket and I can't reach it right now so just remember when we get to the hospital."

The cab driver nods his head, finally hearing a destination, and lets off the brakes easing them forward.

The drive is silent and paranoia works its way into Mike. He begins to recall every time he's ever seen Harvey as pale as he is right now. There was the panic attacks, the time he had to buy a bagel from a random cart instead of his usual one, when he and Donna had fought (what about, he had no clue because Donna said 'when Mommy and Daddy fight, Mike, they don't tell the kids what the fight was about), there was the couple of times that Harvey had gotten punched, but none of those things added up like this. He'd had never seen Harvey in pain like this.

When the taxi stops, Harvey takes a deep breath and crawls out. Mike cringes at a suppressed whimper he still hears leave Harvey's mouth. When he's standing, Mike isn't sure if you could call it standing, Harvey mumbles for Mike to get his phone and wallet. "Pay the man, call Donna, and meet me inside."

Harvey limps into the hospital, not sure if his head keeps spinning like this if he's going to make it. When he gets to the nurse's station, feeling just a bit better when he sees no one, and stands to sway, waiting for someone to see him.

A pretty blonde, he doesn't care for her looks but he can't help but think that this kid in front of him could Mike's sister, smiles at him as she approaches. "What can I do for you?"

Knowing Mike is still feet away, Harvey lets himself dip forward a bit before catching himself on the edge of the counter. "85% certain I broke my collar bone and I'm either about to throw up or pass out, haven't decided yet."

The girl nods her head but doesn't look that least but afraid. "Well, let me get you in a room."

Harvey decides he likes her better than Mike, she probably won't get him in bar fights.

"I said I'm sorry," Mike's pitiful voice breaks through Harvey's, until then, peaceful slumber. "It really wasn't my fault. I had to pee and the woman stopped me and then the man saw and so Harvey had to come over…" Mike's voice drops off towards the end, in the same way, that he does when he comes to tell Harvey something about a case and then realizes another key part of the puzzle. "I guess, it's kinda my fault."

Harvey cracks his eye open, seeing Mike just out of the corner of his eye. He must have passed out on that nurse, poor kid. "Well," his voice cracks and he coughs as well as he can before fire blossoms across his skin at the feeling of his shoulder being jostled. "Next we go to the bar, pick a fight with a smaller guy. One that can't pick me up and throw me, huh?"

Donna, whom he had not seen, steps forward from where she had been leaning against the bed rail at Harvey's head. "I leave the two of you for just a few hours…" she clicks her tongue in a disapproving manner. "You hit on someone's girlfriend," she nods in the direction of Mike. "You get thrown by the boyfriend and then pass out in the Emergency Room, scarring some young nurse."

Harvey, whose attention is on his arm which is swaddled to his chest, blinks hard to clear his vision. He lifts his right arm, which isn't exactly working to his liking and points to his left shoulder. "How's damage control? Did I break it?"

Mike shakes his head," fracture, the doctor said it almost needed surgery."

Shaking her head, Donna runs her long fingers through her hair. Her mood falling into a pit which neither of the idiots around her can get it from. They're going to end up turning her grey early and for that, she will kill them. "Can you both just agree to watch out for each other better in bars, hug it out, and get out of here?"

Harvey turns his nose up to the idea of hugging, which makes him realize his nose is itchy. As he touches it, he can't feel it. He had forgotten just how good narcotics after a broken bone could be.

"We promise," Mike mumbles under Donna's scrutiny. Donna glances over at Harvey, waiting for him to say the same but instead, she rolls her eyes as she watches him poke his nose, pause, and then poke his nose again.

"Just get him out of the bed? Get a shirt on and please, let's get out of here before he does something that gets us stuck in the upstairs ward."

Donna shakes her head and leaves them in the room. Mike and Harvey are of the two best things that ever happened to her but sometimes, she wishes they would fall off the side of the earth. Yeah, she'd like her Saturday nights back, please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you liked! Or have suggestions for other works


	6. H is for Hypotension

Mike stood from his desk, his chair clattering to the carpeted ground, joy plastered across his face and soft chants of 'yes's leaving his mouth. He scoops the blue folders up in one swipe, gathering all of the information he had collected over the last fifty-two hours. So overjoyed with his work, he jogs past the coffee maker, his only friend lately, not even thinking about how exhausted he is.

When he gets to Donna's desk and she snips something that he doesn't hear, he just keeps walking. He's never knocked on Harvey's door before, or even waited by the door, why start now? He doesn't think twice about flicking the light on, sending a harsh white light down on everything in the room, including the slumped figure on the couch.

"Harv-" Mike comes to a sputtering halt as the figure, whom before his large entrance was sleeping on the couch, his expensive Tom Ford jacket folded over his arms like a blanket, bolts upright and sends a look that has Mike frozen in both fear and amazement.

Harvey, whose hands are now planted firmly on the sides of his head, is a mess. The suit he wore yesterday is creased and probably smells like Harvey's cologne instead of the dry cleaners. His shoes are kicked off at the end of the couch and Harvey's black socks are bunched up around his toes from sleeping.

"You look like shit, Harvey."

Harvey doesn't need to look up to hear the smile in Mike's voice. He's so coy at seeing Harvey so human that he doesn't see anything else. "Duly noted but can you just turn the light off?"

Donna's at the door now, a murderous look written across his face. "Dammit, Mike!" Lower she whispers harshly," I said he had a migraine last night!"

The man in question, only seven feet away give or take, lets out a grunt. The hands over his ears tightening.

"Right, right, the light!" Mike flicks it off and sends an apologetic smile to his boss, who doesn't see him. Mike smiles apologetically to Donna, unsure as to what kind of torture he's going to be put through today if the morning has already sucked this bad.

"Donna?" Harvey groans from the couch, his stomach is rolling and the world spinning does not help. He feels moment from passing out.

The heeled redhead walks to his side and levels her head with his. She waits patiently for him to gain control of himself.

"I'm a little light headed." He glances up at her, closing his eyes tight to prevent his stomach from getting the better of him. His whole body feels weak like something isn't working like it should be.

Donna nods, and glances back in the direction of Mike, and takes Harvey's hand. After he was startled awake, he laid back down, his suit jacket now on the floor leaving his right hand hanging off the side of the couch. "I'm going to get you something to eat, a bagel maybe. Something that will be gentle on your stomach, and Mike is going to come over here, okay? He's gonna make sure you don't pass out on us." She pats his hand," your blood sugar is just a little low, you're gonna be fine."

She rises from her crouched position and releases his hand. She turns away, knowing that his teary brown eyes would make her defenses crumble otherwise. "Mike," she calls softly, already halfway to the younger man. "Go sit with him until I get back, do not let anyone in. You have my permission to do whatever it takes to keep everyone out."

She leaves him with nothing but a curt nod. That's why he stands so perfectly still, he's stuck between a rock and a hard place. He has no clue what to do for Harvey, how to comfort him but if he stands here then he's the worst friend ever.

"Y-You should probably drink this." The glass in his hands shakes ever so slightly if Harvey notices he doesn't point it out. Instead, he sips the cup, never fully seating up.

"Thank you, Mike." Harvey's voice wavers and Mike is unsure what he's allowed to do. Harvey lays spread out on the couch, his knees curled in towards his stomach, because he's too long to fit on the couch otherwise, his right hand limply hanging off the side, and his head pooled on his shoulder, his eyes pressed closed.

Mike takes a deep breath and grabs Harvey's hand and waits for him to say something. He doesn't so much as open an eye. Mike bites his lip, trying to think of something to say. "Have you seen the new Avenger movie? Infinity Wars?" Mike doesn't wait for Harvey to answer," not sure if you'll like it. Then again, you didn't strike me as a superhero guy, to begin with so I suppose that's a bit unfair."

He lets silence pass between them, not thinking much of it. He'd settled comfortably on the carpet, pushing the fibers around with the tip of his finger, wondering how it could stay so clean. "I bet you're a Spiderman fan too, aren't you? Ironman?" Mike nods to himself, deciding he's correct," it is the assholes that tend to like Ironman unless you're a hardcore fanboy. In that case- wait. You're a hardcore fanboy, aren't you?"

Mike looks up, expecting to meet the brown eyes of disappointment, and sees that Harvey has slept through the entire conversation. "Harvey?" Mike taps the older man's shoulder, hoping to stir him. "Harvey, don't play." He shakes the shoulder harder," I'll call 911 if you don't get up!"

Mike stands, rushing over to Harvey desk and pulls the phone off the hook.

"Hello, what's your emergency?"

Mike's eyes are glued on Harvey. He can feel his body trembling and his mind is racing a mile a minute. "It's my boss, something's wrong."

"Your boss was suffering from a severe case of dehydration, which caused his blood pressure to drop as low as it did." The doctor is by the calmest person in the room, she knows it too. "As a preventive measure, Mr. Specter is hooked up to a Sphygmomanometer, which is just a fancy word for a blood pressure cuff, and some saline. He complained of a headache when he first woke up but I'm still unclear if he was flirting with my nurse or in actual pain."

Donna smiles softly at the thought," it's more likely that he was flirting with your nurse."

The doctor returns the smile," either way, he was given a Tylenol. He needs to get some rest but I promised to get… Mike?"

Mike looks up, swallowed thickly at the thought. "He w-wants me?"

The doctor shrugs," depends, are you Mike?"

Mike nods and the doctor smiles," well then I suppose you can follow me."

They get to Harvey room far too quickly and Mike has no clue what to do with himself.

"Did I imagine you shit talking Tony Stark or was that just some hyperreality where we both act like you have good taste in characters?" Harvey asks after a few moments of awkward silence.

Mike does the only thing he can think of," I wasn't shit talking him. I just kinda figured he would be your Marvel pick."

Harvey rolls his eyes, moving stiffly on his hospital bed. He settles back down. "Marvel pick," he repeats numbly. "The hell does that mean?"

Mike rolls his eyes, bastard always repeats my own words back at me. "I mean out of the entire Marvel universe, I figured you'd chose Ironman."

Harvey scoffs," really? What am I, a fifteen-year-old girl with a crush on Robert Downey Jr? No, I'm a grown ass man."

Mike's face lights up in delight," Hawkeye." It would make perfect sense. Harvey has a little brother, Clint Barton had a brother, they ran away to the circus. They protected one another, more or less.

Harvey frowns in response," get out. Forget I ever asked you in here. Shit, try to get in Donna's graces by acting like I care and I get this bullshit."

Mike grins wider," I was right then! Yes!"

Harvey's face hardens, his usual 'business face' slipping on. "Out Mike!"

With his newfound knowledge, Mike scurries out, excited to tell the other's his exciting news.

Harvey watches the door for a few minutes and lets out a sigh. Everything's fine now, that is as long as the kid stays happy. Harvey rolls his eyes at the idea, kid. Damn, he is going soft.


	7. I is for Illness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> suicide and major character death warning

"I hope you accept my deepest regards, Mr. Specter. As you can imagine, this is my least favorite type of news to deliver and I can not begin to understand how you must be feeling."

Harvey seats in front of his oncologist, his eyes glued to the pamphlet the man had placed there… minutes or maybe hours earlier. Its cover is taunting, the red abrasive letters and overly happy people that bounce along the cover. He can't help but be infuriated, dying people aren't this happy.

Harvey clears his throat and stands, clenching the paper in a trembling fist," right. I'll get right on this."

 

One Month:  
Harvey Reginald Specter's Living Will and Testament

The words taunt him more than his own memory. The words float along the page and he isn't sure if it's because of cancer or because he's panicking. These days, there does not seem to be much of a difference.

'At this rate, Mr. Specter, it would be a miracle for you to make it longer than a year.'

"Tell me you haven't already signed that." Mike is standing over his right shoulder, reading along the lines as he memorizes each line. "I could have done better," Mike leans down to touch the paper, to flip it to the next page but Harvey stops him.

"Don't Mike," Harvey doesn't know how to tell them. He almost told Jessica the day he stumbled into her couch. She was so surprised at seeing him trip that the words almost spilled right out, he's positive that Dr. Agard would tell him it's because he needs and wants to tell someone.

Mike pulls his hands away from Harvey but remains by Harvey's side. "Why are you writing a will anyway? I mean you're old, I get that, but you're not that old."

Dr. Agard would be right. It tumbles out of his mouth and he doesn't even have to think about telling Mike because it feels right. The pair remain in silence long after Harvey's simple 'I have cancer, Mike. I'm lucky if I get 6 more months'.

Finally, the air rushes out of Mike's lungs. "H-Harvey, w-why didn't you tell me? After everything that's happened… why didn't you tell us?"

Truth be told, Harvey doesn't want to tell anyone. He wants to go home and swallow a bottle of pain pills that way he never has to deal with nausea, loss of vision, muscle weakness, and the eventual inability to communicate and understand. But every time he swears he'll do it, something stops him. The first time he was ready, everything was set out, even a note, but then Mike sent him a text and he lost his nerve. The past few times he can't get the thought out of his head that someone has to find him. The image of Jessica, Mike, Ray, or Donna finding him… destroys him every time.

By the end of the week, the firm has found out that he's dying. Jessica makes several threats and promises to bring Harvey cases at home. He's banned from the office.

 

 

Two Months:  
"Harvey… what's gonna happen to you?"

Harvey looked to the floor instead of Donna's emotional eyes. "Headaches, for right now. Eventually, my balance, hearing, sight, and my memory will fail. Cognitively, I'll be confused and unaware of most things going on around me." He clears his throat," with time, I won't be able to stand because my muscles will weaken significantly. My sight and hearing, one of them is going to be 100% gone. Uhm… I'll experience nausea, vomiting, and pain but eventually, I'll just… fall unconscious… and that'll… that'll be it."

Her empathy… her pitty stung but not nearly as bad as the five words that left her mouth with selfish intent. "I can't do this, Harvey."

Mike is there. Every day, he leaves early and comes to Harvey's apartment. Rachel is a pleasant surprise.

"What do I do, Harvey?" Upon walking into Harvey's apartment everything seemed fine until Mike and Rachel came to the kitchen. There they found Harvey on his side, kitchen chairs tipped all around him showing them his struggle from his bedroom to this spot on the floor.

Rachel drops to her knees, seeing that Harvey is digging his nails into his scalp. She pulls his upper body to her chest and massages at the tight skin around Harvey's head. "Mike," her voice is level and calm, so unlike both the men around her. "He needs the pain medicine in the cabinet above the stove."

Harvey rocks in her arms, small moans leaving his mouth. Rachel holds him tighter and whispers sweet nothings as she attempts to comfort him.

"Here," life hurts. It throws curve balls that are never meant to be hit or even caught. They're just meant to hit you square in the chest. Rachel had always thought the worst thing that could happen to her was her own death. Yet standing here, Harvey in her arms and Mike looking absolutely terrified as his mentor trembles, Rachel can easily be convinced that her death is not the worst thing that could happen.

They stay locked together for several long minutes. Rachel waits for Harvey's pulse to stop hammering dangerously fast against her palm, she counts the minutes as they pass and as seventeen minutes come to pass she tears her eyes off of Harvey.

"Help him stand, Michael." Her voice is soft and Mike nods obediently.

They had all been briefed on the medicines Harvey was taking to combat his symptoms. The heavy pain medicine, it takes a functioning human being and makes them jello. If the migraines didn't feel like they were ripping him in half, he'd never take them. Sometimes, he has to.

Mike grabs Harvey around his thinning waist and lets the older man sink into him. Mike guides Harvey, being patient and understand as Harvey stumbles. They're only halfway to his room and Harvey's shaking like a leaf.

"M-Mike," Harvey pleads, gripping his friend dress shirt weakly. "Mike, I can't. I can't, Mike." Tears fall limply onto Mike's t-shirt and he tries to do his best to work through it. "Mike," Harvey's breaks as he pleads," please, Mike."

Rachel is there when Harvey's body falls weak. She takes half his weight and pulls his head to her shoulder. She does her best of comfort as they enter his room. "Lie back," she whispers, as she grabs his neck and eases him onto the bed. "You're okay, Harvey."

Rachel gently runs her hands through his hair until Harvey's brown eyes slide shut. "Mike," she whispers, softly as to not wake Harvey," call her."

 

 

Three Months:  
Mike looks up at the sky, the heavy blue clouds mean rain but right now even if it poured he's not sure he would move. "I think… I think I'm going to ask her to marry me." It's such a simple idea but it hurts.

Harvey smiles gently. The idea of a big wedding makes him close his eyes and lean into the heavy oak behind him. "She's a good kid." The only time he had thought about getting married was with Scottie and when he was a kid. Now, he wouldn't be able to do it.

Harvey can feel rather than see Mike's eyes on him. "Harvey?"

He opens an eye and peeks at Mike," Mike."

Mike opens and closes his mouth, visibly panicking as the seconds tick by. "I'd need… I want… we'd do it real soon so… best man?"

Harvey's smile splits his face and he nods, unable to find the words that need to be said.

After another migraine that left him unable to answer the phone and then the door hours later, Mike and Rachel moved into Harvey's large apartment. His guest room now has a name and a purpose when before it was just a bed with fancy paintings. Secretly, he enjoys them being there.

Harvey stumbles through his apartment, a glass of water in his right hand, and the other open to grab anything that may make keep his stride stable. In his bathroom he finds Rachel Zane haling to the porcelain throne. "You look like hell."

She jerks up and scowls at him. His restlessness was becoming worse and the doctor had predicted the opposite. As they progressed closer to the year mark, instead of sleeping like there was nothing better to do he seemed unable to close his eyes.

"That means a lot," she groans, wrapping her arm on the toilet so she can rest her head on it," especially when it's coming from you."

Harvey opts to ignore her comment and walks into the bathroom. He uses the bathtub's rim to ease himself down, hoping his arms don't give out underneath his weight. He leans his head against the cool ceramic of the tank cover and asks," how far?"

Her eyes give away just how guilty she is, they dart quickly away from his own. "You know, I think I like cancer you better than old you," it's the only thing she can think of, anything to get off of the topic at hand. "You're sensitive… and nice."

They share a smile until Harvey takes her hand and rephrases his earlier question. "Rachel, how far along are you?"

Her eyes swell up with tears and she has to turn away from him. Her answer is choked and chopped full of unshed tears. "T-Three months."

He nods his head and the timeline in his head ponders that she hasn't told anyone because of him. He's dying and Rachel's going to give birth. Harvey has to wipe tears from his own eyes," Rachel.." He sniffles and nods his head," I'm the only person that knows… aren't I?"

She doesn't have to voice her answer, her turned chin is all he needs.

He squeezes her hand," promise me you'll tell everyone? They deserve to know. It's not every day Mike Ross and Rachel Zane have kids." He smiles and attempts to lighten the mood," jeez, I mean, you really need to give the populous a head start. They're gonna need it."

She wipes her nose and nods her head," I promise."

"Good." He hands her his water," drink up. Your breath smells awful, I'd brush before I went back to bed."

He gives her shoulder a light pat as he walks out and pauses. The world really doesn't stop for anyone but right now… it seems like it couldn't turn slower.

 

 

4 Months:  
Being alive is exhausting. They are constantly running. They're here and there just trying to race death. To plan a wedding, to get ready for a kid, and to figure out how who will be home to make dinner.

They feed off of one another. Every day, Harvey supplies them with an idea for names. One hand stirring whatever he's made for breakfast, the other holding a newspaper close to his face. Soon, he'll need reading glasses. Mike runs back and forth, he's got his eyes on making Junior partner and it's really kicking his ass. With Harvey out, Jessica has agreed to allow Rachel to stay home to work on anything she can. They all know it's because Jessica would find a way to have Rachel or Mike with Harvey at all times and she has. If Rachel has to stay late or go in early suddenly Mike has the day off. It's clockwork.

"Holly."

"Never."

"Alex?"

"I don't know."

"Hayden."

"Eh."

"Harley?" Harvey looks up, a large smile smacked across his face.

Mike stops tying his tie to scowl at Harvey," seriously? You think I want to name my firstborn after you?'

Harvey shrugs and goes back to the eggs in the skillet in front of him," hey, a dying man can wish, you know?"

After Mike leaves Rachel and Harvey retire to the couch. There they wait for Donna.

It had taken two months but Donna got herself together. She came back to the apartment, dressed in her pajamas, and cried. She sobbed and held Harvey as close as she could get him. She was pulled from her slumber by a too real nightmare. Harvey was gone and the last thing she had said was that she couldn't handle it.

Luckily, over seven years of friendship is hard to break and Harvey, and everyone else was just glad to have Donna back. Without her, Harvey resembles an unhappy child.

"If he becomes president, I will literally die."

Rachel covers her laugh with her palm and delivers an open hand slap to Harvey's chest.

"What?" Cancer had made Harvey talkative and less of an asshole. "Someone has to joke around here. You and Mike dance around the word cancer like it's contagious."

The room falls silent but a curt banging on the door pulls them away from Harvey's comment.

Rachel gets the door and is greeted by an overly happy Donna with a Scrabble board. "Hope you're ready to have your ass handed to you, Harvey! I bought Scrabble."

Rachel should have said something. Should have warned Donna that Harvey's in one of those odd moods where you can't tell if he's joking or being an asshole.

The Scrabble game should have gone well. Before it was Donna and Harvey's shit. No one could play like them and the only person they could lose to was each other. However, halfway through the game, in a small, soft voice, Harvey admits he can't see the letters.

Scrabble is officially retired from that point on.

 

 

5 Months:  
"There's nothing we can do."

It was happening faster than they were promised.

"It's okay." Jessica gave Mike off… all the time Harvey needed. "You're alright, I gotcha."

Mike had followed the sound of retching to the bathroom to find Harvey emptying his stomach. Rubbing his back, Mike does the best he can to comfort Harvey.

Harvey seats up, his upper body swaying to an imaginary beat. His jaw opens and closes, his brain not working to get the words he needs out. Mike can see him attempting to talk, his eyes and mind trying to communicate a thought but it's just stuck. His body speaks to the panic that is rising up in his chest.

Mike crouches down, pulling Harvey into a hug, trying to calm him. "You're okay. It's just aphasia. We knew this was going to come but you're okay." They remain seated on the bathroom floor for a long time.

"M-Mike, I don't… Where are we?"

Mike closes his eyes, trying to seclude the emotion tearing through him. "We're in your apartment, Harvey. I'm sure you can remember that. Can't you? If you just a little bit?"

Harvey nods," y-yeah. You're right."

 

 

6 Months:  
Mike and Rachel are going to get married today. No one says it but they all know that Mike would have most likely waited longer to ask Rachel if it weren't for Harvey. But it's mutual. After the last few months, Rachel has become close to Harvey, she doesn't want to get married without him either.

The ceremony is short. Harvey stands behind Mike for as long as his trembling muscles allow and then Louis is strategically placed behind him, ready to help Harvey into the chair seating off to the side.

In the breast pocket of Harvey's suit jacket are two cigars. They're for later.

Rachel and Mike get their first dance. The tears in their eyes are happy and their kiss is sweeter than cherry wine. When the pair split apart and the party officially starts, Rachel asks Harvey for a dance. For humor's sake, Donna request one too and Harvey abides.

"How's the Bean?" Harvey asks referring to Rachel and Mike's ever-growing embryo.

Rachel rests her head against Harvey's shoulder already exhausted by all of the daily activities. "Damn kid hasn't stopped kicking all day. It was even doing a little tap dance over my bladder earlier. This bean is an asshole."

Their dance comes to an end and Harvey's muscle's thanked him for the long break he takes. The doctor had prescribed a cane to assist his walking, Jessica had gone as far as to pick it up and bring it to Harvey's apartment so that he would have no excuse not to use it, but he's Harvey Specter.

When he seats back down at the table where Louis, Donna, and Jessica all seat, all eyes are on him. "Not gonna keel over guys," he mumbles but his statement is slightly debunked as he leans heavily on the table in order to sit down.

"I told Mike you were looking for him," Jessica speaks up and Donna slides a plate of snacks in front of Harvey. He shakes his head and Donna pulls them away.

"Speaking of," Louis announces and there Mike is.

"Whatcha need?" Mike asks hands shoved down in his pockets.

Harvey stands slowly, glaring at Mike as the younger man attempts to help Harvey stand. "We're going to the roof."

The pair walks together, silence filling the space between them.

As Harvey leans heavily on the elevator railing, Mike and Harvey both wish they had packed his cane. It may have been a sign of weakness but its sure as hell beat hobbling.

"My father gave me these when I graduate from Harvard." Harvey holds the cigars in his hand and a lighter in the other. "We were supposed to smoke them when I did something big. He thought to get married or have a kid. I was holding out, I was going to smoke them when I made partner but…"

Mike nods his understanding.

Harvey holds out one of the cigars," you're a junior partner now Mike, you're going to have a beautiful kid, and you just got married."

Mike reaches for the cigar but stops, just frozen in place.

So Harvey continues," neither of us has much of a family anymore, Mike. My dad's gone but I know if he was here today, he'd tell me to smoke these with you."

Mike takes the cigar and lets Harvey light it. "You remember Logan Sanders? I heard him call me your surrogate son."

Harvey takes a long draw from the cigar and nods his head. "He did say that."

Mike takes an experimental puff from the fat cigar," you didn't deny it…"

Harvey nods," I didn't."

They stay on the roof for an hour. They talk about Logan Sanders, kids, marriage, baseball, and everything they can think of. Long after their cigars are gone, Donna comes up and tells them that Ray is here to pick Harvey up. It takes all three of them to get Harvey back to the ground floor.

 

 

7 Months:  
Mike is a moment to slow. He watches as Harvey falls to the ground both his arms going to his head. "I can't see!" He cries in panic. "Mike! Mike, I can't see!"

"Rachel!" Mike tries to keep Harvey from hurting himself as he shakes on the floor. "Rachel, we need a doctor!"

His shouts are full of pain that Mike can not ease. When his arms start to shake, Mike calls an ambulance. At the time, it feels awful like he's betraying Harvey but later the doctor reassures him that if he hadn't called Harvey would have died on the floor. A statement that offers little to no relief because of the one that follows it. 'There is a chance that he doesn't make it through the night.'

Hooked up to I.V.'s, Harvey lays on the hospital bed with his head tilted to the visitor's chair.

"M-Mike?" His call is soft and trembles with the rest of his body.

"Right here," except it's Rachel and Harvey doesn't think anything of it being her. He turns his face towards her voice, his eyes jerking with motion in an attempt to make out her blurry figure. Rachel pushes Mike towards the bed.

Mike takes the closest chair and tears fall unabashedly to the floor. Jessica and Louis should be here any minute, they have a right to be. Mike takes Harvey hand and holds it tight. "I'm right here, Harv."

A small smile graces Harvey's lips and his voice comes out a rough whisper," I've always hated that nickname." His eyes move over Mike and his smile falls just a bit," I-I… I'm not ready, Mike. I thought I was but…" He collects himself and attempts a small joke," I never could think of any good last words."

Mike nods and sniffles, brushing a tear away.

"It's a girl." Rachel stands beside Mike, smiling softly. "It's a girl Harvey."

Harvey grins," Bean is going to wreck every boy's heart she can get her little hands on." His hands fumble down his body, using his left hand and torso as a guide to finding the other side of the bed. He hears his fingers scratch against the paper surface and pulls it to Mike. "This is for the Bean."

Mike nods," okay. Anything else, your highness?"

Harvey looks up in the general direction of Mike and a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as his eyes focus just enough that he sees the general outline of Mike.

It's twelve o'clock, on the dot, when he vomits blood for the last time. The doctors up his morphine but they say nothing. Their looks say it all for them.

"I'm sorry, Mike." Tears run hot down Harvey's face," I'm scared. I thought… I can't do this, Mike. It's too much."

Mike nods, squeezing Harvey's hand," it's not fair. You had more time."

Harvey chokes on his breath and Mike stands, pulling him up so that he can breathe again. "It's okay. It's okay." It takes several long minutes for Harvey to stop sputtering on his tongue. "You're okay."

"M-Mike." Harvey holds Mike's shirt like a lifeline because it is. "I-I… I-I'm dying."

Mike lays Harvey back down at stares at his limp face.

"It doesn't hurt… I'm-I'm...I'm cold."

The heart monitor had been silenced hours before, it's unsteady rhythm no longer a comfort but a clock, slowly ticking off their time together in it's dehumanizing way. Glancing at the jumping line, Mike feels panic swell in his chest. "Harvey," his name comes out a plea, one last attempt to ground the older man to this moment. To keep and treasure what they had before.

"You know those ABC dramas?" Harvey holds Mike's hand a little harder, fighting to keep his lungs working. "Keep the kid out of those, huh?" He smirks one final time and mumbles," it's amazing the weird shit they put on there."

Mike squeezes Harvey's hand harder. "No." Mike stands and shakes Harvey's shoulder," you're not allowed to do this, Harvey!" He looks to the monitor and finds no pulse. "No! You're supposed to give me advice! Go out with a bang!"

Rachel pulls Mike away, she holds him as the doctors push them out into the hall. On the bed, all alone, Harvey is still and so small. He had lost too much weight, he hardly looked like himself. Now, his hand has fallen off the edge of the bed, hanging limply through all the chaos.

"I should have been there more," Mike hides his face in Rachel's shirt. "I should have put work aside-"

Rachel extracts herself from his grasp," look at me, Michael! Harvey is dead and there was nothing anyone could do. People die. It happens but you know what? Harvey had a great time and he would have been pissed if you put off making Junior Partner because of him." Rachel cups Mike's face, tilting her own head and smiling sadly at the tears that still run down his cheeks.

"Excuse me?" It's a nurse, a younger woman no older than Mike and Rachel. "You left this."

In her hands is the note. The one that Mike swore to give to his unborn child.

Mike couldn't find the courage to look at what the paper said. He just stood there with it clutched to his chest as sobs tore their way through him. So Rachel took the legal pad away to see the note inscribed. She clears her throat and reads aloud:

Dear Bean,

It's me, your Uncle Harvey. You may not know a lot about me, you see I died of cancer before you were born but I know you. When you were three months old, I was the first person your mommy told about you. When you were four months old, you kicked me in the cheek. You see, we never really got the chance to meet but I already know I would have loved you. So, I left you some stuff, things that will let you get to know me. In the brown bear with the red tie is your first letter, you should receive it as your fifth birthday present. The others you'll have to find but don't worry I believe in you.

Sincelry,

Your Uncle Harvey

P.S. Don't think that there is ever anything that can drag you down. You're a baby born from Ross and Zane blood. I dealt with them first hand, saw them fail, watched them get kicked around but I promise you, you can do anything. You were bred for adventure. So have fun, live hard, play dirty, and kick ass

"It's just like him to leave our kid a note to begin a scavenger hunt."

Mike nods and flips it over," where do you think it will take her?"

Rachel smiles, so confident and sure of her answer. "Knowing Harvey? Everywhere and anywhere she could ever hope to go."


	8. J is for Joint Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joint Pain

J is for Joint Pain

"Honestly, I'm surprised you made it this long." Mike's breath comes out in short puffs, each word ending cut off as he breathes harder in attempt to calm his body back into homeostasis. "We didn't even have to stop once for a bathroom."

Harvey pulls his leg back, attempting to ease the pull of his overly tight leg muscles. This movement, which requires him to bend just enough to cause all the vertebrae in his back to pop, makes him hiss in unexpected pain.

He waits for the wave of pain to leave before he dares to tackle another one of Mike's old man jokes. "I thought we already talked about your overuse of prostate jokes?" Speaking of, he's really got to take a leak but he would rather hold it then give Mike the self-satisfaction.

Mike simply shrugs, making his way over to Harvey's couch. "You do make it surprisingly easy." Mike turns back to face Harvey as the younger man leans against the leather couch arm. He lifts his right hand and begins ticking things off," those antacids that you think no one sees, all of your comments about comparing the younger generations to your generation, the fact that he grunts or groan whenever you stand after sitting for longer than just a couple minutes-" Mike cuts himself off. He stands straight up and a smile that Harvey instantly hates splits his face in half. "The fact that I caught you taking a nap- a nap Harvey, in your office last week… I mean come on."

Harvey simply rolls his eyes at Mike, opting to just let the younger man have his point so that the conversation can die off. "I'm going to change into clean clothes," this seems like a reasonable amount to say but then remembers he's dealing with Mike. "Do not put your feet on my coffee table or my couch."

Feeling like his expensive furniture is safe, Harvey makes his way back to his bedroom. Ever since Donna had mentioned Harvey's morning runs, Mike had decided that they were the perfect chance for 'bonding time'. Honestly, sometimes Harvey really enjoyed them and other days, mostly weekends, Mike would stay for most of the day and by the end of the day Harvey, without fail, would be minutes from homicide.

Pulling a clean shirt from his drawer he decides Mike should change too and throws an old Harvey Grad shirt on his bed. He tosses a pair of older black basketball shorts down beside them.

He really does love the kid, it's just that the reason he loves him is also the reason he often wants to shoot him. And the reason they disagree so much is the same reason Harvey finds him so… protectable. They have so much in common, it causes them to disagree… a lot. And yet Mike is so different from Harvey.

"Mike!" Harvey pulls his shirt over his head, he doesn't need to see Mike to know he has his feet kicked up on the coffee table and with the amount of time the two of them spend together, Mike has become boring and predictable. "When you're done scuffing my coffee table with your cheap dress shoes, there are clothes for you to change into. Don't want your poor excuse for hygiene skills stinking up my complex."

Mike, per his usual upbeat, obedient self, eagerly does as he's told. He passes Harvey to squeeze into his bedroom and Harvey decides to use the guest bathroom. This way, Mike will never know Harvey had to pee.

"What kind of fabric softener do you use?"

When Mike comes out of bedroom from changing, Harvey is already out. He stands in the kitchen with the freezer door open, letting the cool air bite his too hot skin.

"This shit smells amazing." Mike stops in the hallway, his left eyebrow quirked up as he watches Harvey. "What-What're you doing?"

Harvey reaches into the freezer and pulls out four ice packs. Mike watches with an odd fascination as Harvey takes the packs and tucks them under his arm. "You'll have to ask Donna for that, kid, she does most of the…" Harvey lifts his arm in the general sweep of his home," everything around here."

Mike notices the slight limp in Harvey's stride but does not call attention to it. Instead, he just watches Harvey grunt as he walks and then eases himself into the couch. The ice packs go on his kneecaps which are locked straight by the pressure he placed on them when he kicked his feet up on the coffee table. The other ice packs go to his bad shoulder and it's respected elbow. Tilting his head back with a satisfied groan Harvey finally answers Mike's last question. "The ice packs are for me… because I said so."

Mike shrugs and lands hard beside Harvey on the couch. "So, Kilgore, how long have you had joint pain?"

Brown eyes fly open and land on Mike. "Kilgore," Harvey repeats, disgust written clear in his voice and face. "This is not a Vonnegut house, Michael, and don't you dare think that I can be fooled with Breakfast of Champions."

Mike nods his understanding and lays back on the couch too, letting silence take over.

"That was a lame ass book anyways…"

Mike rolls his eyes, leave it to Harvey to think Kurt Vonnegut wrote 'lame ass books' but then again… Harvey's always been good at deceiving things he likes as things he hates. Mike leans heavily into the sofa, letting himself relax in the coziness all around him.

However, as soon as he settles down the ice pack on Harvey's shoulder delivers an icy bite through his too thin t-shirt. "Jesus," Mike moves far enough from Harvey to prevent their close proximity. "How can you stand that on your skin?"

Harvey, whose attention is more centered on the easing pain in his knees, hums for the time being. Just to shut Mike up long enough for Harvey to not bite Mike's head off for talking so damn much.

"One day," Harvey pauses for a moment, opening his left eye to peer at Mike," you'll understand… until then, use your imagination." Even with the ice packs, his pain is still aggravatingly present. This morning, he should have listened to his body. The way his knees creaked and groaned as he rose from the bed and for twenty minutes after that.

He should have told Mike to shove his morning jog up his ass and went back to bed.

"Hey, Harvey?"

"Mike."

Mike scratches at his nails, unsure of himself now. "I really do… I miss working together… sometimes. You know?"

This time Harvey doesn't open his eyes to answer Mike. He lifts his shoulder, ignoring the tenderness of it's joint and puts his arm around Mike. "I miss you too, kid."

They set in comfortable silence something that took years for the two of them to perfect. It's not until the weight of Mike's head leans against Harvey's forearm that Harvey moves. He peeks at the younger man and smiles softly when he sees that Mike has fallen asleep.

In his own loving way, the same way that Harvey expresses a love of any kind, Harvey swears towards the younger man now laying against him. "Damn kid." Nothing in his tone could give away the sincere and loving way he speaks but that's just because he's Harvey Specter. It's just a good thing Mike's asleep otherwise Harvey would probably have to shred a new batch of business cards reading something taunting about Harvey being the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz or something equally as coy.

His life would be so much easier if this wry little shit hadn't stumbled into his life with a suitcase full of weed and yet… for some reason, he'll keep him around. There's something oddly parental about their situation. Either way, Harvey will deny it all until the day he dies.


	9. K is for Keep Stalling

K is for Keep Stalling

Harvey Specter has spent a lot of time in the ring. Between those colored strings with tape wrapped around his hands, he feels safe. He's not the son who told his father about his mother cheating. The son who tore his family apart. He isn't a shitty mentor, one who yells too much and can never get 'thank you' to come out right. In this ring, he is not broken. He is simply a man. Nothing more nothing less.

Lately, meaning the span of about year from Rachel passing out at school, Donna leaving, Mike leaving, Logan Sanders, Jessica, and just everything, the ring is the only place where Harvey doesn't feel like his world is crashing around him. At the office, he is a walking zombie that everyone walks on pins and needles around. At home, he's one drink away from blackout drunk and exhausted more than words can explain.

To make matters worse he has a meeting with Mike today and if the blonde, crazy haired figure approaching the bagel cart is who he thinks it is, that meeting is going to start early.

"Hey, Sam." Mike grins at the bagel man and scratches at the back of his neck. "Uh… You know that bagel Harvey gets with the blueberry-"

Sam cuts him off, nodding in understanding," I know what you're talking about. He just came through and got one, actually."

Mike's face falls not because that means Harvey's close by or because he realizes that once again Harvey's habits have grown on him. It's the bagel itself. For a man who habitually denies feelings and calls them a sign of weakness, he reflects his emotions hard on bagels. Poppy Seed bagels are for rushed Mondays, they reflect a content happiness. Cinnamon Raisin Bagels are for when he's got a companion, specifical people like Jessica or someone whom he feels the need to impress. They make him feel adultish. French Toast Bagels are for days that have gone impossibly good but for afternoons that have taken a turn for the worst. But Blueberry bagels are a new thing. They reflect unease for when Harvey feels like he's out of control. Mike no longer feels like he has the stomach for the bagel.

"Thanks, Sam." Mike takes his bagel and Harvey takes a deep breath and keeps on his way into Pearson Specter.

"You have a problem and it doesn't have anything to do with me." Jessica's words play over in his head and the tight pull in his chest frightens him. He can't do this, not here, not with everyone around. "And you just exposed it by bringing up some paranoid bullshit about Mike Ross going with Robert Zane!"

Harvey attempts to keep a level pace, anything to keep off the eyes of everyone around him.

"Cause this all started when Donna left you and now you're afraid Mike's going to do the same thing."

Harvey loses his battle over the panic and it infuriates him. He has no need to panic right now. Nothing is happening. He's just trying to walk through his firm to the elevator and just because his mentee happens to be trailing behind him-

He feels bile sting the back of his throat as he corrects himself.

His old mentee because Mike no longer needs him.

That's all it takes. The world spins to the right just enough to make his stomach churn threateningly. His vision is hazy and he stumbles into a man he's never seen before, his mouth forms a haste apology but he can't even hear the words leave his mouth.

"Harvey!" Mike felt panic of his own build up in his chest because Harvey's demons may be playing a sick game of peek-a-boo in his head but Mike is watching his demons trails just under Harvey's stumbling feet.

"Harvey." Mike grabs Harvey's shoulder and turns the older man in the direction of bathrooms. If the green sheen to Harvey's too place is any indication, he'll need it. "OUT!" Associates and other men whom Mike have never seen leave the crowded bathroom without so much as a quick of objection.

As the last one clears out, Mike pushes Harvey into a stall and jogs to deadbolt the bathroom door. When he comes back, Harvey is emptying his stomach of all the food he's eaten within the last week which is a startlingly small amount.

"You're okay," Mike says running a hand over Harvey's shoulder. "You're okay."

Harvey trembles under Mike's hand, something that terrifies him in a way that he never knew he could feel. Running a hand through his already messy blonde hair, Mike wonders how many other people on Earth have to go through losing two fathers. At twelve, Mike has thought losing the one was awful enough. There would be no one to throw baseballs with, no one to scoop him off the ground, no one to terrify and yet enchant him. Then at almost thirty, he got that. Except for this time, death isn't the reason he's losing a father figure.

Mike reaches around his mentor and flushes the toilet.

"Dammit Harvey," Mike winces at the state the older man is in. Harvey leans back against the cool metal of the bathroom stall. His face is noticeably pale and his hands tremble as he runs them over his face to wipe the sweat away. "Did you ever get any medicine? I thought Donna said-"

Harvey looks up at the mention of the redhead and Mike lets his voice drop off. Harvey didn't like the idea of Donna knowing he has to go to therapy so that he doesn't fall apart but Mike knowing…

"S-She told you?" The green is returning and for once Mike's high wired brain can't think of something to say. "I-I had medicine." Harvey's chest begins to rise faster, his shoulders lifting with the force.

Mike crouches down, his hand resting solidly on Harvey's arm. "You have to calm down, Harvey. You're going to give yourself a heart attack or something worse."

Harvey nods but shows no signs of improvement.

"Okay. Okay." The words rush out of Mike's mouth," what is it? Give me anything." Mike searches his brain for some indication as to what could be bothering Harvey this bad.

Harvey shakes his head stiffly.

Mike sighs and seats down in the small stall as close to Harvey as he can get. "Then I'll just sit here. We'll wait this out."

Neither speaks a word as Harvey struggles to get his breathing under control. They reach out to one another. Mike gently holds a fold of Harvey's sleeve between his thumb and forefinger, something to root himself to Harvey. On the other hand, Harvey holds the wrist in his fist. He'd let go but he's afraid that if he does he'll panic again and it's not the best thing to experience once let alone three times.

"You're going to have to make a distraction," Harvey whispers after several long moments. Mike is relieved at how much Harvey is beginning to sound like himself again.

"Anything." Mike glances over at Harvey and smiles," I'll stall, you get out of here, and I'll meet you back at your place."

Harvey lifts an eyebrow, a task which only exhaust him farther. "My place?"

"Yeah, you know that saying about the babies? The 'when the baby sleeps, you sleep'? Well, it works that way with the boss'. And I've got this real hardass for a boss," Mike rolls his eyes and sighs. "The guy is a real dick."

Harvey smiles and nods his head," my place it is."

Mike offers him a hand up and Harvey accepts. As he stands huddled in that bathroom, Harvey wonders if this is how parents feel when their kids grow up. This odd proudness and yet terror for the pain that they still have to overcome.

Harvey hears Mike yelling out in the commotion outside the bathroom and he smiles. Mike may not need him anymore but Harvey still needs Mike and for now… that's okay.

I'm so sorry. I'm such a cruddy writer. This is awful and I feel awful and I'm sorry... ugh


	10. L is for Lisp

L is for Lumbago (consequential Languishing and even a small Lisp)

Mike's speed walk comes to a faltering halt as he approaches the glass walls of Harvey's office. Once before he had pondered the idea of the walls being a metaphor, a glass wall something to keep things in and other things out and yet so easily broken… either way, Mike had dropped the idea. He decided that if there was a God why would he play with silly metaphors?

Just inside all four walls is Harvey Specter. That is not the surprising part, incidentally. The surprising thing just so happens to be the fact that Harvey is half undressed and laying face down on his couch. From Mike's position, the older man looked dead or at least passed out and judging from the way Gretchen is seated at her desk… Mike isn't sure which it is.

"Gretchen?" Mike approaches her desk slowly, unsure of the older woman. "Is Harvey dead?"

The thing is, Gretchen is a great person. Mike really likes her, she reminds him of Trevor's grandmother, not that he'd ever voice that. She's a kind woman, whose heart is large, yet she can plot revenge like no other person.

Gretchen glances up from her computer, if Mike had guess she's probably playing solitaire, and glances over at Harvey. "No. Although, he wishes he was."

Mike stands at watches Gretchen go back to her game, he's unsure of what to say. Understandably too, Gretchen's statement was just vague enough to stir his curiosity even more. "I'm going-" he points towards to Harvey and waits for Gretchen to nod before stepping onward.

In his mind, it doesn't matter that he's never asked Donna to go into Harvey's office, this is Gretchen and she kinda scares him.

"Harvey?" The lights are dimmed, hardly on at all, and Mike walks slowly into the room. "Harvey?" He approaches the man slowly making just enough sound so that he knows he's coming. Mike reaches out and puts his hand on Harvey's shoulder giving it a small shake.

"Pleathe don't," Harvey's face is buried so deep into the pillow under his head that the lisp goes undetected by Mike.

"Mike?" The younger man looks up and finds Jessica Pearson standing over him.

"Jessica."

Her eyebrows draw up," you're in early." Mike sense a bit of… sarcasm? She's throwing down a hint as if she might know how often he comes in late.

Mike opens his mouth, his jaw working the words out, but nothing comes out. He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. "I don't- I don't…"

"Can you two take thith converthation thomwhere elth?" Harvey's voice is once again disguised by the pillow but Mike catches just enough that he hears the lisp.

"What's-"

Jessica cuts Mike off with a look and motions for him to join her outside the room. He follows quickly.

"When Harvey was younger," Jessica explains," he used to have a lisp." She glances into the room," he was in a fight this morning if that's what you want to call it. A man on his floor was assaulting his wife, Harvey got in the middle of it, and the man got Harvey pretty good. Harvey hit his head pretty hard and as a result, his lisp has come back. That isn't uncommon, no matter how concerning it may be."

Mike nods, trying to soak all of this is in. Harvey getting into a fight doesn't seem that odd but the lisp bit just isn't settling with him right. "So that's why he's laying down?" A concussion doesn't seem like enough to keep Harvey down… he's Harvey.

Jessica nods her head," that and the fact that husband took several cheap shots. Harvey threw his back out."

Mike glances through the door and nods his head. "So he should be home? Why isn't he?" The look he gets from Jessica makes him understand not only the pointlessness of his question but the answer. "Rrrrright… cause he's Harvey."

Jessica nods approvingly. "Donna called Ray, he'll be here in ten minutes. We just need to get him to Ray."

Mike bites his lip knowing exactly what Jessica is going to say next.

"We're going to need you to do that."

Mike's life is made up of dumb choices… this job is a result of a dumb choice around the right man. That right man generously took Mike's dumb choices and taught him to stand on his own two feet. Bottom line, Mike owes Harvey a lot… so dragging him to the elevator, holding him up so that he doesn't collapse as the elevator makes it's decent, and then seated in the car with him to make sure he gets home safe… well, it's the least Mike can do.

"Come on, Harv." The nickname slips out of Mike's mouth without him even realizing. His head space is more concerned with keeping Harvey from falling over before they make it to the elevator.

Harvey's face has paled considerably since he sat up on the couch. As a result, Harvey's lisp has worsened considerably and when he does manage to speak the words hardly working around the stutter that's rearing its ugly head.

"M-M-Mike, can't… can't do ith." Harvey's legs turn to jelly under him but Mike picks up the extra weight as well as he can. Moving as quickly as he can, Mike has them stumbling to the bookshelf.

Mike pins Harvey's body between himself and the shelf. "Catch your breath. Okay?"

Harvey nods but no words pass his too pale lips.

"Okay," Mike nods and pulls Harvey backup, forcing his knees to hold him up. "Come one, we can make it to the elevator."

Harvey's fist tightens in the soft material of Mike's cheap suit. "C-C-Can't… can't." His legs are failing him again but Mike simply fights harder to keep them upright. "Mike," Harvey's voice is low, his stomach churns dangerously, and Mike tries to shit out the idea that Harvey's voice almost sounds pleading. "Pleathe…"

Their eyes meet briefly but Mike turns him away. He promised Jessica he would get Harvey home and if he wasn't so stuck on keeping his promise then he'd know better than to let Jessica down. For a moment, Harvey's pain filled eyes are enough to almost break him. Enough to want to ease Harvey back on to the leather couch.

"Please, Harvey, we just have to make it to the elevator."

And they do.

It's painful… it's slow but they get there. Harvey shakes like a leaf from the walk if he hadn't been so exhausted maybe he would have wondered how a walk he makes every day could manage to tire him so easily. He feels weak… he hates himself for it.

"Ah ha!" Ray calls out, smiling at the duo even though he can see that Harvey looks as if he's about to keel over. "The mistro and his protege! My Batman and Robin!"

Mike smiles but Harvey never looks up. Ray takes that as a sign to move to help Mike.

With the two of them together, getting to the car is tremendously easier.

"Just lay down," Harvey's head jerks as he tries to stay seating up in the car, Mike isn't the only one to notice. "Come one, Mr. Specter, just lay back. Mike can just seat upfront… or he can squeeze back here with you. You just need to lay down."

Harvey opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. Instead, Mike simply crawls into the beside him and pulls Harvey down. As a result, Harvey lays down on Mike's lap. The tight pull of the muscles in his back eases… if only a little bit.

Mike puts a hand on the back of Harvey's shoulders, attempting to keep the man from lolling about as the car turns. Mike clenches his jaw, he has an abnormal fear of losing Harvey. This… thing that Mike fears he can not get away from. Harvey is only mortal, he's just like everyone else. He can die. He can get hurt.

"M-Mike?"

He looks down at Harvey waiting for Harvey to fall asleep.

"I need you to… talk."

Mike quirks an eyebrow up," you want me to talk? Usually, you want me to shut up."

Harvey grunts and it takes him a moment to force the words out that he needs. He can faintly remember his speech lessons from when he was ten and thinks the hard about the 's' sound forcing. "It's too quiet."

Mike frowns at how slow Harvey attempts to speak. The image of a small Harvey one with missing front teeth and a mother who hasn't broken him, standing before him gleefully speaking, not caring about a lisp.

"Did you that when you drown, it's different depending on if you drown in saltwater or freshwater?" Mike glances out the window, lost in his own world now. "In fresh water, it takes approximately 5 to 10 minutes. However, with salt water, it takes 10 to 12 minutes and it's different." Mike licks his lips smiling out at the passing cars. "The salt water makes the blood vessels in your lungs burst. So unlike the fresh water, you drown in your own blood instead of the water."

Mike looks down and Harvey's fast asleep. "Hey, Ray?'

Ray looks back at him from the mirror," want me to make a couple more laps?"

Mike nods," uh, yeah. Please?"

Ray nods," no problem."


	11. M is for Myocardial Infarction

M is for Myocardial Infarction

Everyone wishes for a do-over. It's gotten to the point where Mike thinks it's simply human nature to fuck up so badly that you have to find some higher power to beg to take it back. It's never that simple. Words don't work like they do in movies… or even when you're making one. There is no big red pen to cross out a section of dialogue, no replay button, no skipping. Everything that is said is permanent. No going back.

"Last words are supposed to be important… right?" Mike is an adult and has been for a very long time. He understands how things around him work. That the world works on a system that is far too complex to ever sit down and write out, so he keeps it locked up in his mind. But, like most adults, there are still moments were he feels like he's a trapped teenager. Too young to be a man and too old to be a boy but still so sure of being one or the other.

Rachel, who just like the others has been glued to her seat since this all started four hours ago, puts her magazine down. She's unbothered by the lack of comforting words she finds in it. They mean nothing to her but if she keeps reading the same thing over and over again she's going to end up resighting it the same way Mike does with everything.

"Of course," Rachel means to come off comforting. Her tone suggests this but Mike's body slumps harder into his plastic chair and his blue eyes burn holes into the tile at his feet.

His tongue clicks in his mouth as he opens it to speak. He seats like that for an agonizing moment before the words finally find their way out. "I don't remember what the last thing I said to him was."

Silence envelops the room once again. Donna's sobs had died off by the second hour, much to everyone's relief. Louis seats away from them, his suit jacket is cradling Donna's shoulders giving her some solace, and his face emotionless as he stares at the same portion of white wall as he has since he came.

Jessica looks as perfectly put together as she always does. Her hair is swept to the side in a neat pin and her dress is still perfect as if she never put it on at all. Seating beside Mike, whose face is pale and eyes are red, she makes him look like more of a mess than he really is.

When the man donned in dirty blue scrubs and a white coat that hangs off his too tired shoulders Mike is on his feet and the cleverest lie he's ever told slips right off of his lips. No one thought anything of the lie but it was Donna rising to her feet to proclaim her own relations to Harvey that did through them for a loop.

"I'm Marcus Specter, I'm Harvey's little brother." Mike takes the title so proudly that the doctor doesn't even question him.

"I'm his wife!" Donna stands so quickly that Louis' coat falls to the ground in a little pile. Neither bother to pick it up.

Mike lifts his left hand up, showing the gold ring around his finger.

The doctor nods his approval," I can only allow one person back at a time given Mr. Specter's state of health at the moment."

The doctor goes on to describe Harvey's state, using words only Mike can understand. In the end, it doesn't matter anyways. They arrive outside his door and Donna takes Mike's hand," go. Rachel needs me and you need him."

Mike nods numbly and does as he's told. His brain reminds him of the one other time he has heard a line close to that. He was at Harvey's, it was after the Logan kiss, and it was the middle of the night. Mike was moments from falling asleep when unadulterated fear took over him. Harvey had calmed his fear of Rachel being alone or alternatively going back to Logan. "Mike, think. If you came to me, where do you think she went?"

"Harvey." The name had slipped out of Mike's mouth so many times over the last few years that it isn't the name that means something as much as the tone. At this moment, the name is as shattered as the body that lays as white as a sheet on the bed.

Brown eyes crack open and that stupid Cheshire cat smile pulling at his lips. Usually, that alone would have been enough to make Mike smile too. Harvey's smile was oddly contagious but it's all just too much and not enough at the same time.

"Mike," Harvey's voice has trouble getting out from under the oxygen mask. Mike drowns out the facts about the heart pumping blood to the lungs and how when one suffers the other does. They aren't helpful and they are distracting.

Mike steps closer to Harvey and takes his cold hand in his own. "How do you feel?"

Harvey looks around the room, taking stock of his surroundings. His hands come up to his face and struggle to pull the mask from his face. He accepts Mike help, letting the younger man lower the mask. "Like I had a heart attack," is the long-awaited answer to Mike's question.

Mike scoffs at the answer, shaking his head but not expecting anything less of Harvey.

"Where's Donna?" Harvey's eyes finally meet Mike's and the only thing the younger man can think is how high Harvey must be right now.

Mike scratches the back of his neck," thanks, Harvey. I really love you too, you know? I'm glad that you appreciate me being here for you right now." The two men lock eyes for a long moment and Mike caves," if I'm with you, where does she have to be?"

Harvey smiles," Rachel? Is she that tore up about me? When did she get on the Harvey Fan's United?"

Mike rolls his eyes, his spirits lifting. "There has never been a Harvey Fan's United and there-"

"A Harvey Fan's United? Me?" Standing in the doorway is a red eyed Rachel, an exhausted Donna, a pissed of Jessica, and an out of place Louis. Harvey smiles in spite of Rachel's tone because his family is here and looking as lively as usual. "I was not crying because of you," Rachel points a trembling finger at her boss, her tone, and posture both give her lie away.

Harvey smiles from the bed, it's not the same cocky smile he usually wears so confidently but a sincere, content smile. "Of course not." He turns his head back to Mike to tell his protege to go get some coffee but the small movement makes fire erupt over his chest and as a result weak and hoarse cough rips through his still healing chest.

Mike is up in a flash. Mike moves over Harvey's weak fingers, pulling the oxygen mask over his face when his strength fails him. When the coughing doesn't ease up, Mike pulls Harvey's shoulder off the bed, easing the older man against himself to keep Harvey seating up.

Slowly, Harvey gains some control over his body and he lets himself lean into Mike's warmth. Between the warmth and the pain slowly dulling in his chest Harvey finds himself falling asleep.

"Get some rest," Donna whispers and Harvey can't remember Jessica making the decision that they should all get some rest. He does remember Donna's warm lips pressing against his brow and whispering for him to behave himself.

Jessica comes over to them, he only knows it's her because of the dull tap of her heels over the tiles and the dulled scent of lavender. She speaks to Mike softly, doing her best to keep her voice low as to not disturb him but he catches her telling Mike to keep Harvey straight. To make sure he sleeps.

"I can take care of myself, mother." He lifts a hooded eye to peer up at her, she simply smiles at his taunt. She never did give his comments any satisfaction.

"Take care of him," is all Louis says, it's directed to Mike. Who doesn't seem to mind being in charge of Harvey?

Rachel is last, she stands in front of them for several long minutes. She seems stuck, unable to leave Mike and Harvey.

"Hey Mike," Harvey calls.

"Mmmm?"

Harvey smiles over at Rachel," wanna go get some candy bars and a couple coffees? We can induct our newest member." Too tired to keep his eyes open, Harvey mumbles," we can take her for steak dinner later."

Rachel scoffs at the idea but Harvey can still hear the tears. She steps closer to them and he can hear her kiss Mike," I have to go, Donna said she'd take me home. I'll see you in the morning?"

Mike nods," course."

Rachel stands for a moment longer before quickly kissing Harvey's temple and making a quick get away.

"Alright," Mike prods gently," let's get a little more into the bed, hmm?"

With the help of Mike, Harvey managed to seat back up on his own. And as a pleasant surprise, Mike pulls Harvey back on to him. Letting the older man lean back against him.

"You're surprisingly better at cuddling than Donna is after sex," Harvey mumbles. "And she has boobs so you know that's a bonus."

Mike makes a disgusted sound," ew, Harvey. That is not anything I needed to know."

Harvey smiles and closes his eyes. Their comfortable silence is filled with the sounds of the heart monitor and the hiss of the mask.

Suddenly, pulling Mike from his sleep, Harvey asks," am I at least better than Rachel?"

Mike shakes his head," I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of an answer."

Harvey grins," so that's a yes."

Mike is unsure of what to say. Obviously, Rachel is a better cuddler but for some reason, Mike doesn't feel like shooting Harvey down. "Whatever you say Old man," Mike smiles down at his mentor and rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say."

Mike's smile dies quickly once he sees that Harvey has fallen asleep.

None of this makes any sense. For once everything seemed so perfect. Rachel and Mike aren't fighting. The threat of Mike going to jail is long gone. Jessica and Louis have made omens with Harvey. The panic attacks are gone, Donna and Harvey are getting along again and boom. A heart attack.

He was alone and he called Mike.

" 'ello?" Mike was not enough 25% awake.

"Mike?"

The labored breathing on the other end of the phone did not mask the voice coming through the phone. "Jesus, Harvey. Have you been running?"

"N-No. I… I think it's a heart attack, Mike."

Mike threw back his covers, startling Rachel awake. "Call 911, I'll be there in a minute."

"No!" Harvey's voice was on edge, with a hint of poorly masked fear. "I already called them. I can hear the sirens but Mike… I hung up on the… caller lady. I didn't want to talk to her."

Mike is tugging pants on, they're yesterdays but he doesn't think anything of it. "Okay. I'm right here, Harvey. Talk me through it."

Harvey nods. He's breathless and in pain but Mike soothes his frayed nerves. "I knew what it was hours ago… I just couldn't bring myself to admit. Sounds stupid doesn't it? I mean, because it is." He pauses, his gaps filling the line. "I got your text. The one about dinner and I called."

Mike seats back on the bed, soaking in Harvey's words. "You could have died."

Harvey shakes his head," no…. Can't kill me, not that easy."

Rachel by then had crawled over to Mike to hear the conversation.

"I think they're here." Harvey's words had begun to slur at that point. "Mike? I should have called earlier. I'm sorry."

The call had ended then. Harvey had felt himself begin to slip and if he was going to pass out he was at least going to do it by himself.

Mike shifts closer to Harvey, holding the man closer. He wishes he could have taken yesterday back. If he could, he would have gone back and sat at Harvey's apartment. He could have sipped bourbon with Harvey while Rachel dozed across the sofa. Anything would work. Just as long as in the end, Harvey had someone. Someone to hold his hand.

Doesn't matter now, Mike supposes. The world will keep turning and the sun will come back up and there isn't anything anyone can do about that.


	12. N

"Jesus," Mike takes a step back from his haggard looking boss. "You look like hell."

A true statement had never been said. Harvey may not ever be doing the best, usually diet and stress wise, but today he seems like the embodiment of a suffering. His neck is stiff from yet another night of falling asleep at his desk, his head is killing him, and if he's completely honest he feels a little too warm.

He still does his best to keep his distress out of his voice. "Thank you, Michael," Harvey snaps without his usual 'Harvey tone'. "With the way you shower your boss with compartments, I have no idea why investment banking ever let you go." There is it, that dead, ever so playful tone reserved only for Mike.

Attempting to avoid his overzealous, freshly rehired, quite a literal partner in crime, Harvey makes a B-line for Jessica's office. There, he will be away from the stares of his coworkers and specifically, Mike.

"Awwwww! Come on, Harv." Mike whines, simply picking his pace up to walk with Harvey. "I'm a junior partner now! Take me out for lunch or something!"

Harvey makes the mistake of looking at the kid, his blue eyes are wide and his lip is sticking out dramatically.

"Pleeeaase?" Mike makes a last-ditch effort to get Harvey to stop by grabbing his mentor's sleeve," Harvey, please? It's just me and you. I lost Rachel and Grammy… I mean, no one but you can take me. I'll pay and everything." At this point Mike's words are beginning to run together. "You can pick the place and everything! Come on, Harvey. How many times does a-"

"Fine," his tone comes out more clipped than he meant but Mike's quick paced words were beginning to make his head pulse with pain. If Mike continues on, Harvey might implode. "I'll take you for lunch, Mike." He resists the need to rub his neck," be ready in two hours."

With Mike walking away from him, Harvey heads back towards his desk and prays Donna has a Benadryl… and maybe a heating pad.

"Wow," Donna's eyes widen at the sight of him. "Yesterday's suit," she observes," a crooked tie, an untied shoelace, two black eyes, and you're walking like you have a stick up your ass." Her eyebrow draws up," are you having a stroke? Do the arm thing."

Harvey rolls his eyes, refusing to lift his arms in the air to show her that they can remain level. "I just need a Benadryl, Donna."

Donna makes a face that may or may not suggest that she doesn't believe a simple Benadryl can fix all of the problems Harvey is currently sporting. "Here are two," she hands him the candy sized pills and a water bottle, both of which he never even saw he reach to get. "Give me fifteen minutes and I can get you another suit, a change of sock, and a heating pad." She eyes him up and down," all of which you need."

He turns to head back to his desk but she shouts out for him. "Harvey? Lay down on the couch, if you don't your back's going to end up locking up and you'll end up needing Mike to carry you down to Ray."

Harvey's deep sigh was all Donna needed to hear to know that Harvey had given in to her suggestion and was easing his sore body into the expensive softness of his office couch.

On his back, Harvey found that the pain only seemed to pulse more. After three long minutes of telling himself that he would not curl into himself and therefore lay in the fetal position, he caved. With his knees bent towards his ribs and his arms wrapped around his body, he drifts off to sleep.

He's snoring softly when Donna comes in ten minutes later. She does her best to not wake him as she puts the electric heating pad on his back, between his shoulders. She turns the heat up and a soft groan comes from the slightly ajar mouth.

"Shh," Donna commands as Harvey's eyes crack open," it's just me."

He mumbles something intangible and closes his eyes, soft snores consuming the room once again.

"Donna?" Mike whispers, not surprised at the fact that Donna is standing over Harvey or at the fact that she has an armful of Harvey's clothes but the fact that his boss, Harvey Reginald Specter, is asleep on the couch… and snoring. "Is he okay? He promised to take me out… cause, I'm a Junior Partner now. Well, not right now. I wanted to talk to him about-... something else."

Donna smiles, a mix of it going to Mike with a weird sense of pride in her pup and to Harvey who looks so pitiful curled up on the couch. "Leave him be for another hour, okay? If he's not up and about on his own at that point… cancel the reservation and just order some Chinese food."

Mike nods but bites his tongue when he realizes what that would imply. "Donna? I don't know what to get him. We've never… I mean, until like my third week I didn't even know he ate. Even now, I've seen him eat… like a bagel."

Donna rolls her eyes and walks past Mike, leaving Harvey's clean suit draped over his desk," fine. In an hour, if he isn't up I will order the Chinese and when it arrives I will come to get you. Okay?"

She doesn't wait for him to answer, she just walks out. How does she know what he would order? He smiles to himself as the thought occurs to him. Right, she's Donna.

FOUR HOURS LATER

"Everyone has gone home," Donna tells him, holding the Chinese food. "Take this to Harvey, he's still out like a light. When you wake him up, make sure he knows you have food. He's cranky when he's in pain." She holds the bag out for him to take and he does just that.

"You're a goddess, Donna."

She smiles and does a modest little head nod before retreating out of his office to head home.

Mike walks through the empty dark building an eerie feeling sinking into his bones. The same one that empty churches and graveyards have. When he gets to Harvey's office he's unsure what to do with what he sees.

Harvey jerks a bit in his sleep. Sweat drips down his forehead and is only slightly visible from the small pool of light coming from the lamp in the corner of Harvey's office. It looks like he's having a nightmare.

Mike enters the room and puts the bag of food down. He sinks to his knees in front of Harvey now positive that what he sees is Harvey fighting off a nightmare of sorts. "Hey," Mike says giving Harvey's shoulder a good shake. "Harvey, wake up."

The causes Harvey to flinch but he doesn't open his eyes.

"Harv." Another shake. "Harvey, wake up!"

Seeing that the older man doesn't appear to be in the mood to be doing that, Mike stands and grabs the water bottle Harvey had used hours ago to swallow pills. He tilts the water bottle on its side, dropping just enough on Harvey's face to cause him to bolt upright and sputter as he comes to his senses.

"What the hell, Mike!" Harvey is visibly shaking and now without anything to hide his body, it looks like Harvey is dripping with sweat.

Mike unplugs the heating pad that Harvey had been attached to and tosses it on top of the suit still seating on Harvey's desk, untouched. "You were having a nightmare. You wouldn't wake up… I improvised."

Harvey's eyes sadden at the mention of the nightmare and a far-off look falls over Harvey. Whatever the older man was dreaming about it had disturbed him greatly.

"I have food though," Mike comments, bringing the takeout closer to Harvey. "Chinese."

Harvey's face falls," dammit, I'm sorry Mike." He tries to stand, using the couch to push him but he only ends up failing and needing Mike to help him safely back on to the couch. "We were going to have dinner…"

Mike does not like this Harvey. He's not at all like his mentor. He seems feeble… human. "It's fine, Harvey. You can take me anytime…"

Mike tries to sell his point by pulling out the food and seating on the table. Knowing the difference between whatever weird vegetably stuff Donna got Harvey and his sesame chicken.

"Mike," Harvey's voice is soft but not different from the usual gruff way he usually talks. "Tomorrow, alright? Anything you want."

Mike nods, afraid to hold Harvey's stare for too much longer. He's starting to get the feeling that whatever Harvey was dreaming was about him… "Okay."

They start their food, things settling into their usual ways as Mike takes a spoonful of Harvey's food and pretends to gag. Asking 'who eats a vegetable in their Chinese?' Harvey rolls his eyes,' grown men.'

When it's all said and done, they seat back on the couch. Both sighing as they prop feet up on the coffee table in front of them.

Harvey's almost drifted back to sleep when Mike shakes his shoulder," you shouldn't sleep here, again. Donna says that's why your neck hurts as bad as it does."

Harvey groans and seats up, knowing that it's the only way to stop himself from sleeping again.

Mike scoops the food up like an expert and dumps it into the bag it came in, even tying it up for good measure. "Also, Donna said not to come in until eleven. Jessica said she'd be watching for you in case you do."

Stiffly, Harvey grabs his coat and makes slow progress for the elevator. He can hear clicking as Mike shuts off his lamp and closes Harvey's office door. Jogging to catch up, Mike stops quickly to get rid of the trash.

"Anything else, Mike?" Harvey asks, his back facing the younger man.

"Uh," Mike bounces on his heels, restless and ready to go home. "Wait! Yes. You said I could have anything… I want stuffed crust pizza!"

Mike doesn't have to see Harvey's face to know that he's rolling his eyes. It's fair though, Harvey did say anything.


	13. O

Harvey feels nothing.

Numb is a poor word to describe it. Because he can feel the cold nip of air that is seeping ever so slowly under the door. The heat that rises from Mike's arm just under his back. Puffs of warm air due to the close proximately of Mike as he holds Harvey as close as he can. The overwhelming feeling of panic that refuses to leave his chest as the lines of reality blur.

He's hypersensitive and yet numb. He knows neither is good.

This boneless feeling, accompanied by the amount of blood oozing out around them, spells nothing but disaster. He'd never know what to do.

At this moment, it is obvious that Med. School would have been proficiently more helpful than law school. However, without law school, he would not need med school.

"Just squeeze my hand, if it hurts," Mike breathes, as Harvey's face tightens. Twist is the better word. The corners of his mouth draw tightly upwards in a grimace that pulls at the busted lip he sports with little pride. Yes, twist is the better word.

Harvey's sluggish brown eyes find Mike's and he softly slurs his response. The busted lip hindering his ability to speak with clarity," doesn't." He sucks in a shuddering breath that lifts his shoulders with the force and need of the air. "Doesn't hurt."

It should, that much is ever present in the forefront of Mike's mind. Harvey may not have any medical experience, except the dismal understanding of what it means to be an organ donor (which he is) and the short CPR certification test he took six years ago, but Mike is well equipped with every bit of knowledge that has ever been sat down in front of him.

He had taken use of those Biology classes in college and taken Anatomy and Physiology. He had watched many aspiring doctors drop out. There he learned something that only today became of use.

The hardly there pulse in Harvey's right hand differed from the one in his left hand suggest an injury to the right hand, one that Mike should fix soon. The fluttering pulse that Mike finds just under Harvey's right ear does suggest, on its own, that Harvey is going into tachycardia, something that Mike will most likely not be able to save him from.

"How old were you," Harvey whispers, eyes and voice falling from Mike in a lazy pattern. "...when they died?"

Harvey doesn't feel any signs that Mike may begin to deflect his question. No stiffening muscles, no quick inhale, not even an uptake in his fidgeting.

"Twelve," he answers with a small nod. "They were going out to celebrate the anniversary of their first date." Harvey can hear the slight turning up of Mike's lip. "I told them it was stupid because… because I didn't want to get left with Grammy."

Harvey doesn't look back up at Mike, his eyes remain glued to the wall opposite of them. In the darkness, it appears grey but in the light, it is a rusty red color. It is this color inside and out, and all around.

When this had all began, with one wrong turn and a man who looked questionably like a mob boss attacking them, the color did not seem important. Now, as Harvey lays in a puddle of his own blood, he wonders if that rusty red color will match the color of his dried blood.

"Why do you ask?" Mike looks down at Harvey though, wondering why such a question would come from a man who seemed so sure of keeping his entire life a mystery.

Harvey's answer is muddled with a cough but Mike still gets the majority of it," I caught my mother cheating when I was twelve."

There they sat, two remarkably broken adults remembering of times when mothers and fathers could have saved them. Of times when someone should have scooped them up with love and in Mike's case, someone did but for Harvey, there was no one. His mother turned bitter, antagonized him, and used him to twist lies. She broke him.

There is no going back, it's far too late.

Mike would take back that his thoughts. Because he had hated his father so very much for being so sentimental. The most ironic bit comes with how much Mike is like him now.

Harvey would have told his father sooner. He can't now though because as he seats in the locked silence of a shipping container he can still feel his father's angered gloved fist hitting him. Over and over the fists land so unforgiving and so hurt.

"Harvey?"

It's becoming unbearably numb, Mike must know him. "Hmm?"

Mike moves, Harvey distractedly thinks that perhaps he's being pulled closer.

"Stay awake, alright?"

Harvey nods but he doesn't mean it. It hurts and he wants it to end. This isn't like cracked ribs after sparring. The burn of broken skin over his knuckles. This is the pain of a stab wound dug deep into his side. "Course."

 

 

 

"We were just going to drop a client off," Mike's whole body trembles as he retails the events that brought them to the container. "Then these guys came out of nowhere. Harvey tried to reason with them but one of the bigger ones punched him and held him down as this skinny one stabbed him." Mike looks around, trying to find someone amongst the officers that offer some sort of comfort. "I thought he was going to die."

The hatch the container was cracked open three hours after Harvey promised to remain awake. He had broken that promise ten minutes later, not that Mike was counting.

The oldest officer, a kind-eyed man with whiskers still present from the beard he had shaved as the temperatures changed, steps forward and waves his officers away. "Go on now, you should have a statement. Bo! Get the boy a water bottle and get him the cruiser. He wants to go see his friend."

Mike's trembling does not halt as he's carried to the car. Nor does it stop as Donna directs him into a visitor's chair by Harvey's bedside.

"Kid," the nickname so fondly given to him is whispered as a sigh of relief. As if, Harvey was the one who had to seat with his unconscious body draped over his body when it was really Mike seating for hours trying to rouse Harvey from a slumber that he feared he would never wake from.

Mike looks up, feeling for the first time that the monitors were not lying to him, as Harvey's drugged eyes fall over him. "Harvey!" He's up quicker than his achy body likes but he relaxes for the first time as he wraps the older man in a tight hug.

Harvey lets out a grunt but hugs him back. "It's alright. I'm alright."


	14. P is for Pneumonia

Mike had read many books as a child and as it has come to be well known, he remembers them all. The characters, of course, were what influenced him the most. The ones whose clothes were metaphors for the scars that lay not on their skin but in their hearts. Some spoke to Mike like no adult ever could. There were certain characters who were damaged that it made sense to Mike. They had torn jeans with mud caked to the knees because the man that stood before the main character was to be looked at as the King of the Forest, and as far as anyone was to know this man was. There came the women with pale brown hair, swept into strong buns and they were meant to knock the protagonist from their high and mighty stools. They were to teach a lesson.

Books taught him that there is always a lesson. Something meaningful and abundant in everything. How so very wrong they had been.

"You look like death warmed over," not exactly the most dramatic statement to leave Mike's mouth considering the fact that the white paint of Harvey's hallway has more color than his face.

Harvey gives him a shrewd roll of his eyes, a clear concise, nonverbal way to demonstrate that Harvey is aware that he looks bad. So that must mean that Harvey not only looks like shit but feels like it too.

"You need to drink something," Mike notices and points out the almost greyish tone of Harvey's skin. Harvey, after emptying his stomach of its own acid and a fair amount of mucus, had the unfortunate pleasure of seeing himself in the mirror.

Harvey doesn't flatter him with a comment. Instead, he slips heavily on to his couch and moaning as the leather puts pressure on his sore back.

Mike uses this to his advantage and pores a glass of water into a red mug that seats on the countertop, upturned. Harvey must have been about to pour some coffee. Mike walks to the coffee maker, glancing at Harvey's slumped frame first, and holds his hand near the pot. Heat should be radiating off of it. Every morning like clockwork, Harvey gets up and gets a cup of coffee. Obviously, whatever he is fighting off is taking out his usual spunk, even the snark that seems to come so easily for him is missing.

"Drink this."

Harvey opens his right eye, peering up at Mike sleepily. "Why are you here?" The glass is cool against his feverish skin. Slowly he pulls himself into a seating position, blood rushing to his head and making his stomach churn unhappily.

Mike watches carefully as Harvey turns the glass back. It only occurs to him then that he should have also grabbed something to lower Harvey's temperature. A Benadryl or a Tylenol, those lower temperature, right?

"This morning when you called me," Mike takes the now warm glass from Harvey's extended hand. "You actually called Donna. So after you slurred out whatever it is that you tried to tell me, she called me." Mike looks sourly at Harvey," I'm only here because Donna asked me to make sure you don't die."

Mike looks sure of himself as he stands in Harvey's living room, something that Harvey immediately blames on Rachel. She's the reason he's so cocky. So sure of his relationship with Harvey. It's aggravating. "Rachel took Paisley to work with her and so here I am."

The first thing Harvey can think of is the fact that Mike's spawn is running around his firm. His fancy, white carpeted, highly esteemed firm where professionals work is being overrun by a four-year-old who can't even eat oatmeal without making a mess. "The kid's with Rachel? Just Rachel?"

The amount of stress that Harvey puts into his last statement upsets his already fragile lungs. They show their distaste as he bends over himself, gripping the couch to keep himself upright and coughing up sick looking flem.

Mike winces at the sight of it. "Maybe you don't need to worry about what my family is doing but the fact that you look like you're about to pass out."

Harvey flips him the bird. Instead of paying Mike's statement any mind, he pushes himself up off the couch and wobbly walk his way around it.

"Where are you going?"

Harvey doesn't turn back to look at Mike as he answers, he knows that if he did that he would end up falling, hard, on his ass. "Bathroom."

Harvey can hear Mike chuckle and then the sound of the floorboards cracking as he walks behind him. "Hundred bucks says you don't make it to the door before you pass out."

It's meant to be a taunt, something that holds no real meaning but Harvey's knees buckle almost as the words leave Mike's mouth. The younger is there at his side in a flash. "Jesus, Harvey! I wasn't being serious!"

Harvey doesn't so much as flash him a supportive smile. Instead, his eyes roll back, showing Mike more of the white's of Harvey's eyes than he has ever wanted to see.

Mike shakes at Harvey's too limp shoulders," hey. No, no, none of that. Get up, we made a bet. You don't get to skip out on me so easily."

Harvey's eyes flutter for only a moment, just long enough for Harvey to glance at Mike for the reassurance that the younger man is alive and well. Mike is very much alive, in fact, but his health feels very much in danger as he looks at Harvey.

His clothes, a thin white t-shirt, and black jogging sweatpants are radiating the heat from Harvey's trembling body. Although Rachel often jokes that he should have been a doctor because he would look so much hotter in a white lab coat not to mention how tight scrub bottoms are, he would be dangerously good at it. He isn't one though. He should have taken some classes, that would have been wise beyond measure. He didn't. So now as he sits in his friend's apartment, holding his mentor's overheating body, he can't even recall a single medical journal he's ever touched.

"Oh God," Mike mumbles," you picked the worst person to pass out on."

And not a truer statement had been said.

Mike seats there for a long moment, going over is options. He can call 911 and have Harvey completely pissed off Harvey on his hands. Or he can sit here with an unconscious Harvey and just pray that his fever isn't as high as it is.

"Donna?"

Who is the one person on this earth that Mike and Harvey both trust? Donna. Who knows Harvey better than he knows himself? Donna. Who will tell him if he's being a complete idiot and needs to get Harvey to the hospital? Donna.

"I'm on my way, Mike." Her voice is clipped but still on that normal edge of 'I'm three steps ahead of you' that she always seems to carry. "Have him take an Aspirin or a Tylenol, keep fluids in him. We need to make sure his temperature stays down."

Mike tucks his phone under his chin and begins to move out from underneath Harvey. Lifting the larger man up under his arms, which are soaked with sweat. "He passed out, Donna. We're in the hallway to the bathroom, he was walking and he just… fell."

Donna's panic seeps into her voice and takes it over. She's no longer the man with a plan, she's a man riddled with the fear of losing her best friend. "Okay, well, you should get him up. When I get there we'll decide on the hospital, I don't want him to freak out and wake up at the hospital. That will not help anyone."

Mike leaves his hand on Harvey's arm, the heat burning his palms. "He's really burning up, Donna. I don't think this is good." He manages to lift Harvey's upper body off of the floor. With Harvey's feet dragging lifelessly on the floor behind them, Mike drags Harvey the rest of the way to the bathroom.

"Get-"

Mike cuts Donna off, something he would never have the nerve to do in any other occasion. "I'm already the water, Donna. What do I do once I get him in?" Mike holds his wrist prone to the water, allowing the cold to bite at his flesh.

Donna does not comment on Mike cutting her off, she allows herself the dignity to say that it's because there is something more important at hand. "Get him dressed, dumbass. You're just lowering his temperature, not trying to make him hypothermic."

Mike fainyl hears Donna grumble 'I work with a bunch of dumbasses' but he overlooks it as one clear thought comes to mind. "Donna! Rachel and Paisley, I was supposed to meet them at the office after I dealt with Harvey. We were gonna all-"

Donna cuts him off quickly," let me off the phone with you, Mike, and I will pick them up and we can all get to you. Okay?"

"Okay." Mike stops the water, the level being at about half-full. "I'll-" The receiver goes dead, she hung up.

"Guess it's just me and you then." Mike seats at the edge of tub, going over exactly how he is going to get Harvey into this tub.

Peeling the white shirt from Harvey's body proves to be quiet a task as Harvey's deadweight offers no support. Which surprises Mike, even as he comes to realize that maybe it shouldn't. When Mike puts his hands on Harvey's hips, which are too bony and something that Mike will certainly point out to Donna later, he can only pray that he has boxers on.

"Please. Please. Please." Mike closes his eyes as he pulls down the pants and lets out a thankful sigh as he feels the cotton of Harvey's boxers brush his fingers. "Thank God."

With a nod of determination, Mike heaves Harvey into the tub.

"Why are you laying on the floor?" Mike left Harvey's bedroom just long enough to grab more water and to get himself a snack. The first task was simple and fast but finding a snack in Harvey's practically bare cabinets had proven to be difficult. Now, as he walks back in with a new tissue box tucked under his arm, two water bottles, and a granola bar he finds Harvey on the hardwood of his floor.

Mike bends over and takes Harvey's elbow, attempting to lift the man to his feet.

Harvey tries to pull away from Mike, to remain laying on the cool floor. "Jus' leave me here," Harvey slurs, covering his marginally naked body with his arms.

"As hard as it is for me to understand why it is that you want to remain on the floor," Mike says eye never leaving Harvey," I can't."

Harvey remains curled on his side, shivering from the fever that courses through is veins. "I's okay, Mike." Harvey makes eye contact with Mike for the first time and Mike is astonished at just how exhausted he looks. The bags around his eyes droop lifelessly. His skin is hot and clammy even though his voice is dry and he shivers through another cold sweat.

But it's then that it dawns on Mike. It's everything that has ever happened. The panic attacks, Donna, all of it. Harvey internalizes it all because he doesn't think he's worth it.

Mike gets down on the floor, crossing his legs as he does so. "Grammy used to call Trevor 'the boy' or 'that kid'." The sensercity in Mike's eyes makes an unease settle in the pit of Harvey's stomach but he chooses to remain silent. "She called you Harvey though, and if there is one thing that I learned about her, it's that she's a great judge of character."

Mike takes a deep breath and smiles at Harvey. It isn't a cocky smile, one with secret intent, or even a 'I'm f***ing Mike Ross, I'll do as I please'. It's a kind smile, one that Mike flashes to his daughter when she's being wild and he's about to go make her even worse. The kind of smile that he sports as he walks into the firm with coffee for Harvey and Donna eager to tell them something he knows they'll be proud of. It's the smile that he wore as he told Harvey that Rachel was pregnant.

"You're a good man, Harvey. Grammy knew it and I know it."

They remain on the floor, even as Harvey stiffly nods.

"Will you get back in the bed now? This is like the third time I've found you like this and honestly if it happens again I'm going to call Donna and tell her you've went from deloiurs to plain insane." Mike's threat is only half hearted and Harvey knows it.

Mike positions himself on one knee and helps Harvey seat up. Waiting patiently for the endless wet coughs to come to a halt. When they do, Harvey leans harder into Mike. "Put your arm around my-" Mike is cut off as all of Harvey's weight comes down on Mike. Leaving the younger man to keep Harvey on his feet. "Or just fall on me," he puffs light heartedly," that works too."

Mike has Harvey half on the bed when he hears the apartment door being slammed shut and a small voice happily squeal for him. "DADDY?"

Harvey, although only half aware of Mike and the fact that he's in his boxers a clean white t-shirt, pushes Mike away. Curling back in on himself he closes Mike," get out."

Mike can only faintly hear Harvey's," sick."

Doing as he is told, Mike leaves Harvey's bedroom and shuts the door, making sure to slip the light off as he goes.

"How's he doing?"

For the first time since Mike walked into the door at seven thirty that morning, fear and panic swell in his chest. He shakes his head in response to Donna's question, unable to trust his voice.

"Daddy," as usually, the only person who could ever understand her father and uncle when no words were spoken was Paisley. Looking up at her father now, she's afraid because he is too.

Mike picks his daughter up and holds her close to his chest. He holds there for several long moments but Paisley doesn't dare try to wiggle away. "Daddy? I wanna see Unka Harvey."

Annoyed that her father is ignoring her, she slips away the moment Mike puts her down.

"I've never seen him like this," Mike confides, unaware of the six year old slipping down the hall. "He's just weak and his breathing sounds awful." Mike shakes his head," the bath didn't help. His temperature didn't move a bit. It's so bad-"

"DADDY!"

All three adults turn around and search aimlessly for Paisey. Without a word they all run back to Harvey's room, knowing too well that that's where she is.

Paisley seats on the edge of Harvey's bed. She is but a child, her trust in everything around her should not have been a surprise. The tears that spill down her face make fear grow in the bellies of everyone. "He won't wake up!"

For six hours they wait. It would almost be better if it were silent, anything to drown out the sound of Paisley's ongoing sobs. Over and over she begs for her uncle, for the one person who can not hold her and comfort her.

Her mother attempts to hold her close, to dry her tears before they even fall but she can not be consoled.

Jessica, who is usually the only other person who can make her laugh as hard as Harvey, only makes her cry harder.

Louis is no console, she hits his chest and worms her way out of his arms. She's gunning for the white doors she knows they took Harvey through, her father's long arm coming in and scooping her up is the only reason she doesn't push past and get to Harvey.

She beats his chest with her tiny fist, yelling words that she has only heard adults yell, they mean bad thing but she doesn't know their meaning. He takes it, allows her to beat away, to shout, to cry. When she is done, when her sobbing has ended, and she only has the strength to clench his shirt and hide her face in his neck.

He holds her there, comforting her, and trying to comfort himself.

They fall asleep together, swaddled in each others warmth.

When the sixth hour comes and they're told that Harvey's temperature is finally at a point where he is not at risk of overheating and dying. Little Paisley still holds her father close, afraid that if she lets go of him he'll go away too.

"Pneumonia?" Mike repeats softly, holding Paisley closer as the words sink in. He rubs a hand up and down her back using her to soothe his own panic. "H-He wasn't even coughing that bad. Y-You're supposed to cough, r-right?"

The doctor nods," coughing is a common symptom but in Mr. Specter's case the pneumonia seat in well and his body was no longer reacting like it should."

That means nothing good. Mike doesn't need a PhD to know that.

"Is he going to be alright?"

The doctor nods solemnly," eventually. You can go in and see him now if you'd like."

They all nod back and they do go back.

"You better shave whatever you have going on," Harvey points a shaky finger at Mike," off before Monday." There are IVs tangled around the hand that he points at him. His smile is shaky, false, and poorly put on his face.

Mike strokes his face, feeling the rough patches of hair and feel a smile of his own grace his lips. "Maybe Wednesday, from what I hear the boss won't be in. He's a real asshole, plays it all off like he doesn't like me, but cares so much about what I look like. I'm supposed to be some reflection of him."

Harvey rolls his eyes, mocking amazement," he does sound like an ass."

Mike smiles playfully," oh he is." He wraps both his arms around Paisley and seats down on visitor's chair.

Paisley whines and wiggles from Mike's lap. Moving to get in bed with Harvey, Mike moves to stop her but the flashing lights on the machine and the doctor allowing them back click in his head. Harvey is no longer contagious.

Mike boost his daughter up and waits for her to settle herself in Harvey's arms before seating back down. "Don't worry about it," Mike says rubbing his hand down his face. "It'll be off by Monday."

Harvey's eyes are fluttering shut as he smiles. Paisley twist just a little, sticking her thumb in her mouth before humming contently and drifting to sleep.

"Good boy."


	15. Q is for Quake

Growing up an orphan, well, to begin with, he hated that term: orphan, but mostly from that term, he learned fear. The moment that the word came to someone's mind as a descriptive word, used to describe you, you are no longer anything but an orphan. It slips from the tongue of adults and children alike. 'How's Mike doing?' 'He's an orphan, you know?' It's a title, one that can not be won but lost because who wants to be an orphan?

"He's been an asshole all week," Rachel confides, sending a glance towards Harvey's office as a reassurance that he didn't hear her remark.

Mike sighs, realizing then what he was forgetting," dammit. I'm sorry, Rachel." Mike lets his highlighter fall from his hand. "Jessica caught Harvey smoking on the roof, he's going through withdrawals, it was supposed to be my job to make sure you go the news." Mike shakes his head," I accidentally forgot, though."

Rachel nods her understanding, giving him a forgiving smile. With that covered, she nods towards the mountain of paperwork he's seating around. "Did the all suffering, great Harvey Specter give you that?"

Mike manages a nod before picking his highlighter back-up and attempting to get back to work. He gets distracted though, as soon as his eyes land on the beginning of the first sentence 'The Plaintiff-'. "Wanna set camp up here? We can hide from him together."

You know what they say- 'A couple who hides from their boss together, stays together'.

The room fills with the sound of flipping paper, highlighters squeaking against the expensive paper, and rain hammering the glass of Mike's office windows.

"He smokes?" She was in the middle of a file when Mike's words seemed to really connect in her mind. The image of a grunge dressed seventeen-year-old Harvey Specter comes to mind and she shakes the now cursed image.

Mike looks up for a split second and gives her a nod before diving back in. "Uh, yeah. Actually, for as long as I've known him so- well it actually does make sense why you wouldn't know." Looking up from his work, Mike frowns. "The next time that you can't find him, head up to the roof. Cigarettes, more or less, calm him down more than a scotch."

Nodding slowly, Rachel soaks in this information wondering how she never smelt it on him. And more importantly, why she never thought to look on the roof for him. "Thank you for that tidbit, it was much needed."

On the other half of the building, alone save the rain pounding to be let in, Harvey Specter seats clenching his fist in the space of his too warm office. His hands had been trembling to the beat of their own rhythm and the only way to stop the cold sweats and the shaking was the one forbidden fruit. Given the pound of his head, which is keeping an annoying accurate beat to We Didn't Start the Fire, he'd bite, or rather light, the forbidden fruit without so much as a second thought.

He had lost his temper with Rachel and now he knows that she's hiding with Mike. Which means that if he strokes out because Jessica collected the one coping mechanism he still has to fall back on, no one will ever notice.

If anyone at Pearson Specter Litt had been paying attention to the news, which almost all of New York was watching, they would have been aware of the serious storm attempting to wipe New York, and all of her people, away. Instead, they were backhanded, unprepared and that mistake was fatal.

Harvey had just made up his mind to go to Gretchen's desk and ask the older woman if she would fork over at least one of the cigarettes that he knew she had. He was posed like a Ken doll in between his office and her when the earth itself shook under his feet. Shattering glass, like halos, rains down all around him. He's sent crashing into his secretary's desk as the ground pitches forward, if Gretchen had been seating there she would have been killed as the ceiling caved around them.

Mike had just forfeited to Rachel and given in to her idea of going down to order some sushi. Her continues badgering about her love of sushi is what saved him. For, as soon as his body left his chair and rounded his desk to give Rachel a small kiss before he was to do her bidding, the ceiling caved around them. And right where Mike had been seating, a heavy desk slanted half in his tipped back chair.

The first thing that Mike's hazy blue eyes focus on is the wall across from him. Split down the middle by gaping wound the wall slides dangerously closer. It's groaning filling the small space between itself and Mike.

"Rachel," his voice is breathless and perhaps that's due to the large blocks of wood seating on his chest. His hands fumble to it, slicking it with blood from his split knuckles, and shoves it uselessly to the side.

There, just beside him, he spots Rachel. Her brown hair halos around their heads, tickling his nose with every inhale. "R-Rachel?" He pulls himself up, ignoring the heat rolling up his body as the pain in his ribs ebbs closer to agony than stabbing.

His blood is spread farther as he grips her shirt and shakes her. "Rachel!" His actions gauge no response so he probes her prone neck for a pulse. His index finds it fluttering dangerously but it is there.

He looks around him, sunken on his knees he can hardly see around the concrete and glass that lay around them. "Gotta find Harvey," Mike mumbles, hoping his mind may clear with this new mission.

Slipping his right hand under Rachel's neck and his left under her knees, two years ago him being able to lift her would have come to the entire firms surprise however after a year with her lifting her is not the only thing he can do.

Fumbling through the ruined, still slightly shaking (well, at least Mike thinks it's shaking, either that or it's him) building Mike is surprised at just how empty everything seems to be.

"MIke!" Turning, too quickly, Mike catches a glimpse of red and he knows who the voice belongs to.

Standing across the hall, with bare feet and a torn dress stands Donna. Her makeup runs behind her tears as they trail down her cheeks.

"Donna."

Spotting the downed paralegal turned law student, Donna gasp and begins making her way over the debre. "Is she okay?"

Mike shakes his head and shrugs at the same time. He's always been good at mixed signals. "She has a pulse and I can feel her breathing, she just won't wake up."

Panic is the first thing Donna feels but she tries to push it away. She's the adult in this situation. She is the least injured and judging from Mike's complicated answer to a simple question, he needs her to be the adult. "Okay, Louis is out for lunch, he wasn't in the building. Jessica was out on a meeting. Which means we need to find Harvey."

Mike gives her a funny look, one she doesn't understand the meaning of. "I thought you were mad at him?"

Donna looks appalled at Mike's suggestion but she doesn't hit him over the head, doing so would have probably killed him given the nasty bruises all over his face. "Mike! We're mad at each other but I don't want to leave him for dead! We're family, you don't just… leave him!"

Harvey, who was awoken by the feeling of something crushing his chest, stands, teetering on the edge of falling over. His head pounds steadily as bright red blood drips off of his nose from where it runs down his forehead. He brushes it away but his right shoulder aches, a clear indication that he's either dislocated it or torn it like he did in high school, and his left is the only thing keeping him on his feet.

"Harvey!"

His vision blurs just enough that all he catches is bright red making its way to him, quickly.

"You look like shit," he can hear the hint of something...else in her voice. Ill placed worry if his evaluation means anything but he can't trust himself like this.

He looks up at her, eyes still unfocused and jerks to the right just enough to keep himself from falling over. "Mmm," he hums, giving her only a slight nod in recognition to her words.

Mike leans heavily against Gretchen's empty desk, if it not for the grey mix of ceiling and dirt in his hair and the unconscious Rachel in his arms, making it look like just a normal day. Except it isn't. Rachel could die because of some bleed or something that none of them can see. Mike's whole body aches and his brain is sluggish, something it's hasn't been since he was five and took a kickball to the head. Donna, although she won't admit it, feels a little nauseous and if she seats down she knows she won't be able to get back up. Harvey well he can feel the difference between the withdrawal symptoms and his injuries even though he wishes he couldn't.

Harvey takes control of the small group, helping them both over large sections of concrete, being the one to fall when sections were not steady enough and he was the only one up to test it, and, ultimately, the first one over the upturned desk on a nasty section and seeing the shiny metallic doors of the elevator.

"Sit, we can go down those stairs. They'll collapse or… worse." Harvey heeds his own advice as he sinks down onto the cool ground. His ribs protest for only a moment before they ease into this new position. "Sit, Mike." Harvey doesn't need to see him to know that Mike is still shifting on his feet.

Only at the shuffling of pants does Harvey truly ease against the wall. Letting out a pained sigh at the way his head decided that the one position for his body to feel little comfortable causes a mini migraine in his head.

With all of their attention in different places, Harvey is able to drift off to sleep. His last conscious thought is a thank you to whoever may be listening for not making Donna aware of him slipping off, she would have never let him rest his eyes.

It takes another hour for Rachel to start moving. When she does, all she sees is Mike.

"Hey," her grin is sleepy and Mike is sure that's probably a good thing.

So he smiles back," hey."

She winces as she shifts her weight in his lap.

"How are you feeling?" Donna is there too, seating just to the side.

Rachel smiles at the older woman but it falls from her lips as her memory catches up with everything that has happened. "Oh my God! It was an earthquake, wasn't it? Is everyone alright? Louis?" Her dark brown eyes fill with tears at the threat of the death of her friend.

"Hey, hey, hey," Mike soothes wiping away the stray tear that fall down her cheek.

Donna offers her a better answer," Louis had just gone out for lunch when it happened. He's probably still out."

Rachel nods and looks over Donna's rather tired looking figure. "Are you two okay?"

Mike nods and Donna agrees to her own health with a soft, 'yes'.

"Did you get Harvey?" She recalls the last things she said about him and she doesn't regret it but she does like him, all of his assholeness included.

Mike nods his head towards Harvey, who until that moment no one had noticed had slumped into the wall doing more than just a power nap. "Donna, should he be-"

There is no need for him to finish his sentence but that doesn't matter because Donna is already up and cutting him off before he can finish, anyways. "No."

A building just collapsed around them, sending the floor above crashing down, and yet even then had a panic like this set into them.

"Harvey!" Her voice is rough, unnerved by the sight of his pale body. She had never seen him so pale, his usually tan complexion lasted year long so she assumed he got it from his mother. "Harvey!" She reaches down and gives him a not so gentle shove, his face remains slack. He voice lowers as she whispers threats and tugs at his tie to find his pulse," you are not allowed to do this, Harvey. Not with Mike and Rachel right here. Get your shit together."

There it is, a slight flutter of his eyelashes and a gentle, unsteady rhythm beneath her fingertips.

"Oh God," Donna breathes in relief," you selfish bastard. Never do that again."

Her relief is momentary, Harvey moves the wrong way and the suit jacket he had managed to keep closed slides open, revealing his red-stained white t-shirt. Blood, which had never stopped flowing so it never dried, shines brightly across it's front just over his abdomen.

The things this man does to protect Mike… the self-sacrificing that has pure intentions that always fall through.

Harvey loses it for a minute as Donna's hands come to touch the gaping wound. He's gone back years and there is a twenty-something-year-old Mike bouncing like a rubber ball and smiling crookedly at him as he tells every detail from a file. A too skinny tie resting around his neck slanted too much to the right, and a highlighter gripped in his right hand. The days when his hands were stained with ink from one of Mike's cheap pens and his grey hairs were from aging and not from his associate getting himself into countless messes and making him feel like an exasperated father.

"Hey," there's a soft voice trying to gather his attention but he simply wonders how it is he managed to get on his back and in Rachel's lap. She brushes his hair softly with one hand but he ignores this. His eyes scan over her forehead which is bruised heavily.

Mike stutters to his left, attempting to recall a medical book. His blue eyes fill with tears as his mind fails him. "I-I think I have a concussion. I-I can't think of it."

Donna moves, taking both her hands and putting them on Mike's shoulders. "Listen, focus. I know you can do this. Just think."

Harvey looks down at them and feels the cool air of the room nip at his bare chest. Mike's eyes drift to Harvey's chest too and it spurs something in his mind.

"Paradoxical!" Mike cries happily," his ribs! His chest is moving paradoxically! Which means a piece of rebar must have pierced his lung. Which means-" Mike cuts himself off and looks at Rachel. "You can't move, Rachel. You need to stay perfectly still. If you move you could shift his chest and..."

Rachel nods her understanding.

"We can't do anything," Mike sighs glancing at Donna. "There's nothing."

Donna puts her hand on Harvey's leg and gives it a squeeze," well, then, you better stay awake. Got that?"

Harvey blinks thickly, trying to keep from drifting off. "Mhmm."

Donna seats back against the wall behind her but doesn't remove her hand from his leg. "Then we wait." Something tells her, this will be the longest couple hours of her life.

The next chapter R, for Ribs, will be a continuation of this chapter


	16. R is for Ribs

The last words spoken between the four of them was a question, a promise, and a debunking of said question. It was even simpler than the explanation.

"Watch the kids?" There was a hint of humor in his otherwise panicking tone. His throat was closing in which the paramedics described simply with a 'He's going to into anaphylactic shock!'

Donna had nodded her head because watching his lips turn blue was what nightmares were made of. "Of course."

No sooner than she agreed, Mike finally won his battle with the paramedics and managed to sit upright on the gurner and point an accusing finger at both Donna and Harvey. "No! You're not going anywhere, Harvey. You're going to be fine." His statement was solidified as he was pushed back down again.

Time had, of course, passed since then. Ribs were pushed into their respective places after x-rays were done to prove they were located in places they did not belong. An emergency tracheotomy to allow a collapsed airway to heal, and as of yet, remain healing. One re-injured old baseball injury. Three, grade three concussions and one case withdrawals of not only cigarettes but caffeine too.

"Hey," she hadn't seen him move his hand up to the plug at the base of the trach allowing his voice to resonate softly throughout the room. Yet, blurrily blinking up at her now is the mobile and slightly disheveled Harvey Specter, alive and breathing. The unsuspecting thing was that he didn't need to move a hand up to touch his throat because of a long, thick white bandage up his neck.

The trach had been taken out.

"How long have you been seating there?" Her own hospital room had been much brighter than his. Unlike him, she didn't break down and send the flowers and cards scattering to the ground in a fit of a rage. She never lost it but he did and he still hasn't come to voice why that was.

He tilts his head to the right, looking her over before running a hand over the bandage and answering her question," since I signed my release forms." Prematurely, but he won't add that bit.

Donna catches on though and gives a look that he knows all too well is disapproving. "Ray had better be on his way with Mike to come to get you."

The threat is very much real in her voice and he knows better than to tell her that he has been seating the hall for over two hours waiting for her to come through. He knew her PT was at 12, or at least he thought and was hoping he could just go home with her instead of going to his own empty home.

Harvey simply nods with a smile. Over the last week, he has learned humming and nodding to be quite beneficial. His throat had become increasingly sore as more and more days passed with the trach still attached. It wasn't until this morning when his overly cheery nurse came in and told him with a face-splitting smile that she would be around with the doctor and they, together, would dispose of the trach. As happy as he was, he held it in just long enough to rasp that he did not want her anywhere near his throat.

Lucky for her, Mike had already had a conversation with her and told her that Harvey liked her. That her natural banter, juvenile outlook, and overeager need to please lifted Harvey from his dismal moods, no matter how bad. So she simply kissed his cheek, something she had been told to do by Donna, and continued her usual morning duties.

"Do you know how Rachel's doing?"

Of course, he has no idea how his associate is doing because the last time Mike or even Donna had come to his room was a week ago. On that day, he had been angered by the pain and discomfort of his injuries. But, most importantly, the card that had come from Scottie disclosing her sympathy for him. So, in a fit of silenced rage, he had knocked over everything he could get his hands on. At the time, his movement was limited due to the ventilator still hooked to his neck. Which had only pissed him off more.

The mess and his rage had lost him the privilege of visitors for a day but no one came after that anyway, so it ultimately didn't matter.

Harvey shakes his head. He had grown so used to unvocalized answers over the past two weeks that he is afraid to speak.

Donna frowns at this but nods. "Well, I guess I'll see you later." She walks silently to where the seats, not mobile, in his wheelchair and presses a light kiss to his temple. "Be careful."

He nods, once again, and cast his eyes to the tiled ground.

Just as the clicking of her shoes against the tiles disappears the sound of someone jogging up fills his ears.

"Harvey," it's Mike, breathless and a little sweaty, standing before him with only a nasty bruise as evidence of the injuries he suffered. A bright, over-eager smile fills Mike's face and if one were bold enough it could be easily described as puppyish. "You look good! Come on, let's get you home."

He can't even bend to unlock the wheels of the chair before Mike's hands are swatting him away and doing it himself. "How do you feel?"

Mike's happy inflection is already grating Harvey's nerves but he swallows the irritation for fear of being alone… again. So Harvey sneaks his hand to his throat, the fear and pain of the trach still present in his mind, and attempts to sound as clear as he can. "Good," but his voice comes out weak and raspy.

It must not matter how he sounds because Mike grins happily at the sound of Harvey's alone. "It's good to have you back."

Mike's steering with the wheelchair only grows more dangerous the closer they get to Ray and Harvey makes a mental note to give the aging driver a raise when he sees them and makes Mike hand Harvey over.

With a steady, trustable driver Harvey is guided to the sleek black car and left to lift himself into it. Which he is thankful for.

When the car starts the soft melody of Boulevard of Broken Dreams begins to fill the car Harvey scowls in Mike's direction," this?" His voice is still rough but there is a hint of the old Harvey in, enough to make Mike sheepish.

"What's wrong with Green Day?"

Ray watches the pair from the front seat, sending Mike little glances when Harvey puffs about something Mike says. Either way, they're both just happy to have him back.

"Don't need to walk me up."

Mike meets Harvey's astute observation with a heavy eye roll," correct, I don't need to but I want to." The too happy inflection of his voice is once again pressing on Harvey's nerves but he stifles it as best he can because the only thing more pressing than his annoyance is his panic of being left.

Harvey and Mike walk through his building, giving Hannah, the security guard, a smile, and wave before making their way up.

As the doors open, Harvey's attention spans his too full living room. All over the coffee table are the sock covered feet of the four people he trusts and loves the most in this world. All four of which pause their hearty conversation to smile a greeting.

"I already have you both glasses so seat," Jessica soothes giving her head a nod to the two empty seats available. "Harvey's finest scotch for you," she smiles handing Mike a glass with more than three fingers of the fine liquid. "And apple juice for the big man," her smile is taunting as she hands the glass to Harvey.

Rachel eases any sting Jessica's dig may carry as she lifts her own drink up and declares," don't feel bad, Harvey, I got apple juice too."

He smirks at her, not having the heart or the energy to say much else. As Mike eases into the recliner across from them all, Harvey remains standing. His ribs have begun to protest from the movement and poor support offered by the car ride and the wheelchair. Knowing that his swaying will draw attention so he leans against the couch for support, which means he's a little too close to Jessica but she doesn't say anything so he doesn't move.

"I almost blew the whole plan," Donna admits, with a giggle. The more tequila, which Harvey only knows she's drinking because Jessica took a sip straight from the bottle, Donna gets in her the more giggles you get out of her. "I sent Rachel like nine text messages telling her that your surprise was ruined."

Considering the fact that most people would not consider their boss and four co-workers a party is the first real indicator as to just how boring and limited Harvey's life is. It is only fair to point out that Jessica is like a second mother and Rachel and Mike often play out like he and Donna's children. So their closeness is given.

Which leaves him leaning against a couch panicking because he was alone for an entire week. Half of those days he had been hooked to a machine and left to resort to a whiteboard to convey his words the other half he was in too much pain to care if he could talk. The only thing he could do fully, while incapacitated by the heavy doses of pain medicine was panic.

"Excuse me a moment," Harvey mumbles, as he brushes past legs and makes his way to his balcony. His hands are fumbling in his pockets for the cigarettes that he's only just remembering Jessica took. He clenches his fist around the cold metal railing, attempting to ground himself.

The sharp New York air bites his unclothed flesh and sends shivers down his spine. He'd kill for the warmth of a cigarette.

"Harvey," Mike stands at the door of the balcony with his arm extended. In his open hand is a lighter and a single cigarette. "Take it, I'll be out in a minute."

Mike's words fall on deaf ears because Harvey's already crossing the space separating them and lighting the offended object up between two teeth. He's lost in the heat and pain of each pull of breath of nicotine and it's respected toxins when Mike comes back out wrapped in a blanket.

"What was that back there?" Mike's voice is less offended and accusing and more worried. Attempting, like so many before him, to get into his boss' head.

Harvey just shakes his head, a clear 'I don't want to talk about it', so Mike does the only thing he can think of. He takes two steps closer to Harvey and wraps half of his blanket around Harvey, mumbling something about the statistics of broken ribs and a higher risk of pneumonia. Settled close to Harvey, with plenty of body heat between them, and a comfortable lean on the balcony railing, Mike talks.

"In case you were wondering," Mike mumbles," I didn't get to come around a whole lot after your… your anger towards the 'Get Well' cards, and I'm certain it's for reasons you haven't thought of." Mike clears his throat," Donna already knows, it's why she wasn't around as much either. In fact, Rachel told her because… well because Donna is her… you." Mike shifts a little and watches Harvey for a moment. Waiting for the man to let out a slow exhale of smoke before continuing. "Rachel's pregnant, four months, in fact. It's why she stayed so unconscious for as long as she did. Her blood pressure just dropped."

Harvey nods, trying to feel something other than the ever-present panic in his stomach. It's becoming ridiculous but he can't do anything about it.

"I wanted… Harvey, would be the kid's GodFather?" Mike focuses all of his attention on Harvey, taking in all of his movements. The way his right arm cradles his sore ribs but has minimal movement because of the pain that spikes up it every time he moves his shoulder. His left hand moving only to pull The slight shift Harvey makes every time he starts talking. The winces hidden, the twitching eye, the cold sweat, and the teeth gritting.

"Of course," Harvey whispers even as the voice in the back of his head whispers 'he left you in the hospital, alone. You think this kid will love you? How could it love you when your own mother didn't love your father? When Scottie only sends cards because she hates you too much to face you? When-'

"Harvey," his name leaves Mike's mouth somewhere between a question and exasperation. The cigarette had slipped out from Harvey's fingers and the older man hadn't even turned to watch it fall. "Harvey, you need to go inside, something isn't right."

Harvey allows Mike to push him back into the house and only as his sluggish feet catch slightly on the step-up does he mumble," I'm just tired."

That isn't as good as an excuse as he thinks because no one believes him.

The dark grey shirt that his nurse helped him put on this morning is being pulled off by someone but he's too tired to push and find out who it is. Not even as someone's hands begin to pull at his pants but he hears a faint: 'just let me do it, I've actually done this before' and he feels safe knowing it's Donna. Even safer as he hears Mike's disgusted 'ew'.

Something clicks when the clean, not hospital smelling clothes are forced on to his body. He manages to open his eyes and scowl at the number of people in his bedroom.

"You still smell like smoke," Jessica tsks, as she removes the pillows behind his head. She's surprisingly gentle as she places one pillow on his chest and moves his arm over it. The other pillow going under his knees and the comfort is surprising. With no pillows under his head, he feels light and cool. It's a nice change.

"How was he Tuesday?" Someone asks above him, he thinks it's Rachel but this position is so soft and cool sleep is luring him in. The worry in her voice is comforting.

Louis was who the question was directed too," I don't know, I had court Tuesday, I told you I wouldn't be able to see him."

It must go brushed off because the next question is directed to Jessica," well, someone has to know. How was he Wednesday?"

The soft shame is bleeding in the older woman's voice as she too claims she doesn't know. "I had a meeting with the partner's on getting the firm to a small location until the offices are back up."

Turns out, Harvey comes to hear, that their visiting (or lack thereof) was an accident.

Thursday, it turns out, Donna had Physical Therapy for four hours and wouldn't have been able to visit him because of visiting hours in the ICU. Friday, Mike was getting a check-up for the concussion and ribs that were still causing him problems. Saturday, Rachel had a fetal check-up (which in that moment of distress she could care less if she just told the Senior partners her secret). Which meant, for the first time, they were realizing their plan to make sure Harvey was never alone while he was at the hospital had fallen through and that the only thing they had done was leave him utterly alone.

"Harvey," Mike whispers trying rouse the slumbering partner. "Harvey, wake up."

His eyelashes flutter for a moment before finally lifting. "Watcha want?" His voice is still raspy but no one is surprised by its rough edge.

Mike gives his friend's hand a firm squeeze," why didn't you call anyone? Why weren't you mad that no one came to see you?"

Exhaustion and pain are making it nearly impossible for him to stay awake but blurrily he squints at Mike and mumbles a response that goes over their heads.

"What, Harvey?" His voice was so soft, so gentle that no one heard it.

"Thought you were mad," his eyes flutter shut again but several voices at once draw him back out. He blinks three times, trying to stay awake but ultimately it's Jessica's warm hand taking his that makes him jerk awake.

"No!" She whispers giving his hand a firm squeeze," never. You piss us off but we would never leave you alone. Not on purpose."

His drowsy mind is fumbling with the words, the other half if caught up in radiating pain bubbling to the surface. Donna's cool voice breaks through his thoughts with a glass of apple juice and a handful of pills. They don't need to voice anything as Mike moves behind Harvey to help him set up and Donna moves close enough to let Harvey grasp the objects she holds out for him.

"We would never leave you," Donna promises as he sips the cool liquid. "You weren't there, Harvey. You didn't feel how scared we were that we might lose you and Rachel. That doesn't mean what we did was okay, and I can only pray you forgive us but we did not do it on purpose." She closes the gap between them and kisses his temple like she had done back at the hospital. "I hate you sometimes but never enough to leave you."

The pills are already taking effect, Harvey can feel himself leaning farther and farther back and he simply trusts Mike to guide him back.

"Sleep," someone whispers and he's already too far gone to care who it is.

When Mike shifts away from him that panic comes back and Harvey finds himself unabashedly reaching out and grabbing Mike's hand.

"Stay?"

Mike nods and seats down on the edge of Harvey's large bed. In what world does one man need a bed big enough for three- The thought leaves Mike's mind with a shiver as his mind imagines exactly what a man like Harvey would do with a bed like this. The only comfort is how peaceful Harvey looks.

Donna had been right, of course, they were so afraid after the accident. Mike had to scrub Harvey's blood out from under his nails and the image of Harvey laying prone as paramedics cut into his throat... well Mike couldn't bleach that out of his mind if he tried. Every night, as he lays down, with one arm thrown over Rachel he's back in Pearson Specter Litt watching Harvey's blood spill and stain everything in sight.

Now, laying peaceful and pain-free for the first time in a while, Harvey looks like he's sleeping soundly. There are no machines ticking off his vitals. No holes in his throat that no one can fix because his breathing is so poorly.

No, he's just Harvey Specter a little roughed up. A little easier and at peace for a change.

All is as well as it can be and for the first time in two weeks, both Mike and Harvey might just sleep through the night.


	17. S is for Stroke

Harvey was faster, simple as that. Donna had been right all of these years when she promised the both of them that they made a great pair because Mike is so much like Harvey. She needn't worry about lying, they all knew it was the truth. It's why Harvey had just signed a deal with Gibbs when Mike barreled into him just outside her office.

It was as good of a deal as it was going to get. Mike gets to practice, Harvey goes away for six years, and no one goes after any at Pearson Specter Litt.

"I hate you for this," Mike affirms, casting his eyes to the gravel instead of his mentor's. He feels like a child again, an eleven-year-old being left at his grandmother's for some silly date that he can't wrap his mind around. "I won't forgive you."

Harvey takes it in stride, Mike's soft voice doesn't hold the same hostility as Donna's had. It's because he doesn't mean it but Donna did. Knowing that this is the last time he might be able to actually get some nontoxic physical affection for the next six years, Harvey tugs the smaller man into a loose hug. "Be good."

He releases his prodigy and begins the path to the next few years of his life.

"Harvey!" Mike shouts his name, his voice on the edge of panic. This is exactly like the date and if Mike doesn't say something it'll happen again and Mike isn't sure he can survive it twice.

Harvey smiles loosely though, already understanding the younger man's lack of words. "Hey, I know, alright?" He's halfway to the gate before he turns back around and beams," I'll be fine. More weight, right?"

Mike turns over Harvey's words in his mind for hours. They don't make sense to him. He can not recall a single movie where that line was delivered.

It's not until the next day, seating on the couch from which he had not parted since dropping Harvey off that it clicks. It's about seven in the morning and Rachel's sliding down beside him, pressing a too hot cup of coffee into his hands when it makes sense.

Giles Corey was a farmer accused of witchcraft and therefore stoned to death. Instead of gratifying the courts with a plea requested he met each offer with a snippy 'more weight'.

"More weight," Mike mumbles to himself, fisting tears from his eyes. "Harvey's an asshole." He repeats the words to himself," more weight."

 

 

 

 

_"I'll fucking kill you, Specter."_

Frank Gallo had made that promise a decade ago as he was escorted out of the court and after only being in prison for four months, Harvey would prefer Gallo just end it.

His first month wasn't that bad. Frank was petty towards the beginning, he sends his goons to wherever Harvey was and they'd give him a good shake down. Just not the kind Harvey was used to, one would hold him down as the other took out his anger on their new human punching bag.

The second month Harvey was left to seat in 'the hole', as it was called, after finally fighting back against said goons. The confinement had left him weaker than the beatings and unnaturally pale. After he was let out of confinement, he refused to see anyone.

By the time the third month rolled around Harvey would have prefered solitary. There, his meals, although disgusting, would still be his and not end up crashing to the floor. Knocking the majority of Harvey meals on the floor was Gallo's favorite past time, seeing that they both knew that if Harvey was foolish enough to fight back he'd be dead before he could drop to the ground. His pride was never low enough for him to pick any of the food from the ground to eat. Luckily, his cellmate didn't hate him near as much as everyone else and would sneak him fries and anything else he could.

The fourth month was even worse. Gallo left him completely alone. Needless to say, Harvey had become paranoid in the fourth month. His cellmate, the only person to so much as look at Harvey that month, was his only console during those four months.

Until suddenly everyone was looking at Harvey as the usually loud prison hushed to whispers. He knew that today was the day Gallo would fulfill his promise.

"Specter," Gallo spits his name out, giving a sharp nod of his head to get rid of the left over men in the room. "I've been waiting for this moment."

Given the brain power Gallo's men had demonstrated over the past months, Harvey is surprised they can take the hint to jump him at all. They do seem to be all brawns and no brains.

They grab him by the arms and he doesn't need to see the knife to know what's coming next.

Gallo's men are smarter than Harvey gives them credit for because as their boss edges closer, they lift Harvey off the ground making it so that just his toes remain on the ground.

"I'm not scared of you." Harvey sneers, barring as many teeth as possible in his famous Cheshire cat smile. It might have been a little memorable if not for the remarkable amount of weight he'd dropped. "Take a step closer, it'll be easier that way."

Gallo cradles Harvey's neck as he plunges the makeshift knife just above Harvey's hip. "You have no idea how much I've dreamt of this," Gallo whispers pulling at Harvey's short hair to make him extend his neck," to feel your pulse die against my fingers."

The tips of Gallo's fingers press against Harvey's neck, leaving blood-stained finger marks on his neck. "You should last a little longer," Gallo guesses plunging the knife back in and taking a moment to appreciate the twisting Harvey's body does to get away from him. "You'll make a lovely trophy."

Gallo becomes frantic as whistles are blown and the guards poor in. He gets two more stingy stabs in before he's pulled away. "It'll be in the papers, Specter!" He shouts louder as he's pulled away," Frank Gallo kills fraud lawyer, Harvey Specter, in nasty prison fight!

Those are the last words Harvey hears before he caves into the darkness.

 

 

 

 

In a hospital, your position in the outside world does not matter. The nurses, the doctors, and the surgeons are in charge. They decide if and when prisoners are cuffed to beds. They decide what to give to patients.

"The bandages on his wrist?" Mike keeps his arms crossed tight around his chest.

The guards were mean, ugly and harden from the truth and the blackmail of prison. They spit at Mike's suggestion of being able to see Harvey due to the fact that Mike is his lawyer. The nurses saw something, probably what Harvey saw, and they pulled him in. Slipped him past the guards like it was their job.

"He didn't hurt himself," the nurse reassures him gently. She points to Harvey's chest and they watch as the two red patches send an electric current through his heart, forcing his chest to heave on the gurney and his wrist to be pulled against the cuffs. "Those pricks," she points to the door, indicating the guards," want to keep him chained but sweetheart, I promise I will get them off."

Mike nods and watches again as Harvey's chest surges with electricity. The harder he looks the more feelings that fumble to the surface. Harvey is here because of him. Harvey was stabbed because of him. Harvey had a stroke, a Goddamn stroke because of the stress prison put on him and that's because of Mike.

"Do you think you can do me one more favor?"

 

 

 

"Gibbs," Mike's hand's quiver as he stands by the foot of Harvey's bed. His knuckles white from the grip he has on the rail, it does very little to halt the shivers racking his body. "You got your revenge."

His voice is low, nonthreatening because he needs to win her over he needs to appeal to her. To make his pain evident. "Look at him," Mike commands softly, motioning to Harvey. Since Mike had left, the nurse was still unable to get the paperwork filed to get Harvey out of the cuffs and so he looked no better since Mike seen him last.

The mask covering his sweating face, fogs with each ragged breath Harvey takes. The nurse had told Mike that the doctor thought it would be beneficial to incubate him but Harvey's tachycardia had never gotten bad enough to warrant any other treatment than what he has now so they had to keep the mask and hope that his heart would heal.

"You're not winning, anymore." Mike whispers, turning from Harvey to look at the older woman still frozen by the door. Her right hand covering her open mouth. "This isn't revenge or… or redemption. This is torture."

They seat in the silence for another long minute, Mike has ten minutes to win Gibbs over before the guards figure out they've snuck in. That's all the time the nurse could guarantee and with all she's done, he didn't dare complain or push for more time.

"Frank Gallo stabbed him," Mike informs her, turning back to glance over the white bandages covering Harvey's abdomen. With time, they would turn a dirty red just like the bandage wrapped around his neck has. "He crashed on the operating table and had a stroke." Mike pauses a moment before adding," that's the kind of stress prison was putting on him."

The next half of his speech, the part dedicated to the harsh details that Mike can hardly stomach, is all he has left to win Gibbs over.

"Gallo's knife severed some nerves in Harvey's right leg, if-" Mike shakes his head, and corrects himself. "When he wakes up, he'll be facing complete paralysis in that leg." Rubbing his hands over the rail, Mike takes a deep breath and continues on trying to reassure himself that this is like going over a case for Harvey. "The stroke was cerebral, they took out some plaque, but it was too late and they did a PET scan and the nerves and muscles in his left leg are dead."

He meets Gibbs' eyes for the first time since entering this room. The entire time he speaks, Gibbs has watched, haunted, as the pads on Harvey's chest delivered shock after shock to his fluttering heart. With each shock, Harvey's body jerks in the cuffs and Gibbs' heart breaks. Her hatred for Harvey Specter slowly dying with each passing moment.

"No one is even allowed in here," Mike says, his voice dropping from clinical to urgent and afraid. "I had to be snuck in by a nurse. When Harvey wakes up, he's going to be terrified and in pain. He shouldn't have to be alone. And-And they've got him strapped to the bed like he's some hardcore criminal, when really he's just taking my punishment and you know it." Mike steps closer to her," please, Anneta. He's going to be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, isn't that enough?"

Mike could seat for an hour and go over the things that Harvey would no loose from his life because of his four months stay. The chance of Harvey developing a stutter or lisps due to the fact that stroke was located in the speech part of his brain. The pain Harvey will feel as the muscles in his legs die. Learning to live strapped into a wheelchair. The emotional damage. The list goes on but he doesn't have to.

Gibbs shakes her head," I'll have the paperwork by the morning." She turns but stops at the door. "Ross?" She glances back at him," you've always made an exceptional closer."

 

 

 

"D-Donna?" His voice is weak, no louder than a whisper as he calls out for the redhead seating to his right, the mask doing little to help with the hinderance in his speech.

She's as close as she can be without actually touching the bed when his chest erupts in a feeling that his mind cannot begin to describe. It's like being kicked in the chest by a horse while an elephant seats by its side. "Don-n-na?"

She lifts her head, sending red flying, and causing his stomach to twist at the too quick movement. "Harvey," she moves her arms around as if trying to figure out where to put her them but ultimately ends up tucking one over her heart and the other going to tuck a piece of hair behind her hair.

"What hap-p-pened?" Another shock comes and tears that he doesn't even think about wiping awake spring to his eyes and roll unabashed down his cheek. He can see her pain as she remains unable to wipe them away. "Donna, where's m-my Dad? I-I want my D-Dad, Donna."

Donna tucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she attempts to hold herself together. He'll remember tomorrow, so she tries to put his fears to ease as best she can. "He's on his way," she whispers, softly unsure if he'll believe her when she can't even convince herself. "Just rest, Harvey. He'll be here and when he does, he'll make it better."

Harvey nods his head, stopping his fight against the drugs luring him under so soothingly. As unconsciousness takes him captive once again, he mumbles one last plea," I j-just want him, Donna, please."

She remains by his side for several long minutes, watching and waiting for his tale-tale signs of sleep before losing it. Because the moment she does, she's not sure she can put herself back together.

 

 

 

Mike and Harvey seat in Mike's apartment. The wheelchair seating offensively to their right, a reminder that at this moment Harvey seems and even looks like his usual self but he'll never be the same. But he's not. Not on the outside and certainly not on the inside.

"You promised," Mike whispers, hoping to keep his volume low enough as to avoid waking Rachel but he can hear her walking in the kitchen, so he leaves his whisper for a better argument.

"You made a Goddamn promise!" His whole body trembles with the forces of emotions he's been holding in. He turns to Harvey, abandoning his previous tactics of sympathy and understanding."And I hate you," the words are breathless and somber and unforgivable. "I hate you for giving up. For making me fight. For disappointing Rachel. For leaving Donna."

The coffee table moans as Mike leans forward on its surface, causing his body weight to shift to one leg. "You promised me you would fight, Harvey. You swore you would try and the only thing you've managed to do since Gibbs let you out is ruin everything."

Mike tears himself away from the direct contact of Harvey, the fact that the older man refuses to look at him only adding to his agitation, and scowls at the wall farthest from them.

"Mike?" Rachel calls softly from the kitchen doorway, the sadness in her own eyes evident. "Call the others, tell them I ordered dinner."

Since Harvey had been let out of the hospital about two weeks ago, everyone had agreed to meet up at someone's house and make sure they all stayed together. They had done it mostly for Harvey's sake but it seems to be doing more for them than it ever has for him. It's not their fault, of course. He just seats wherever they push him and sometimes eats, silent and as if he's the only one there.

"Fine," Mike mumbles, eyes still cast to the wall.

He seats that way for as long as he can, trying to think back to before Gibbs and before the panic attacks when they were just Mike and Harvey. Mentor and protege. When it was simple.

"Hit me," Mike says softly, looking back to Harvey. "Isn't that what you told me? Hit me, Harvey. Hit me, yell at me, scream, but stop just sitting there Goddammit! Feel something like everyone else!" Just like Harvey did all of those months ago, Mike takes him the lapels of his shirt and jerks at his body, trying to appeal to all of those boxing lessons. "What happened to the man who wouldn't give up at boxing camp? The one that told me I could either be King of the Hill or the Mountain? The one that smoked weed with me when Grammy died? The one that challenged prison with more weight? Huh? Is he dead? Or is he just hiding, because he is a coward."

Mike's own tears are streaming down his face as he yells. Each pull at Harvey only making them thicker. "You've always been a coward, Harvey. You're not strong because you mask your feelings. You're a coward! A coward, who lies and cheats. A bully!"

Harvey pulls back, the first real independent movement since Gibbs.

"You hear me?" Mike asks, his voice lowered to its usual octave. "I hate you because you're not you. I want Harvey… please?"

They seat in a heated silence, both begging the other to just let go but Mike has always been more vexing. Far more willing to let his emotions drive his brain and for that, he's always been stronger in a way Harvey could never beat.

"I-I am sor-sorry, Mike."

Mike wipes tears from his eyes and smiles wetly," yeah?" He nods his head and leans even farther forward on the coffee table. "I'm… I'm sorry too." Mike pulls Harvey in for a hug, pushing his own face into the older man's neck, hiding the tears that continue to fall. "I'm sorry, Harvey."

"It's okay," Harvey's own voice sounds soft, nothing above a whisper as he shakes in Mike's arms. Letting big wet tears of his own slide down his face and onto Mike's cotton shirt.

Mike claps him on the back," hey. Hey, I've got some leftover stuff from the coffee cart guy, if-"

Harvey chuckles," Jessica's com-coming? She's a real p-pothead. An-An those pretz-zels-"

"The cotton mouf pretzels, you bet. That's the real food we have in this house!"

 

 

 

 

TWO YEARS LATER:

"Do you think babies can-can smoke weed?" Harvey had found a comfortable position laying his head on Mike's lap and stretching the rest of his body out on the sofa. So when Harvey muttered the philosophical question it was easy for Mike to smack him right on top the head.

Rachel had heard his amazing question and in turn, threw a book at him. "This is exactly why he doesn't like you."

The book hits him square in the chest causing him to let out an 'oof' in response.

Jessica clicks her tongue, the weed, which is so very much still in her system, making her surprise exaggerated. "She's right, Harvey, that kid hates you."

Mike and Rachel's only offspring, a little boy who, in fact, doesn't hate Harvey, is two years old and far from a baby. He's bright and brilliant like his parents. Dark brown eyes that mirror his mothers and the pasty white skin of his father, they all mock that it suits him so much better than his father. The joke that he hates Harvey started the moment they met because the young boy screamed his little head off until he was returned to his parents. Now, he is very much interested in his 'Unka Harvey'.

"Mommy," standing in his footy pajamas, two little fist balled in his eyes attempting futility to wipe away sleep, Parker wobbles into the room. His little eyes lighting up as he sees his entire family gathered in his living room. "Auntie Jess! Donna! Misser Louis!" He steps farther in, about to sprint to Louis when he sees the empty wheelchair to Louis' left. "Where's Unka Harvey?"

His question is answered as he sees his father and Harvey, the latter of which is seating up ready to be barreled into by the youngest Ross.

"UNKA HARVEY!"

Harvey scoops the small boy up, smiling as the small boy holds his shirt tightly as if Harvey were to leave. It's something the adults had talked so frequently about. Not a single one of them could come to understand why Parker always held them like this as if someone had left him when no one could dare leave a child so cute.

Harvey had eventually asked his therapist about it and her smile had been so genuine and so happy as she told him that perhaps Parker hugs them so tightly, not because he's afraid they'll leave, but that they're afraid everyone else will.

Harvey had kept that to himself as long as he dared until he finally shrugged and offered 'kids are perceptive, maybe he's comforting us and not himself?'

No one dares point out that they knew he'd asked his therapist.

"Whatcha d-doing up, pu-puppy?" Harvey teases pushing back the small boy's soft locks of dirty blonde hair.

Parker crosses his arms and says firmly," I am not a puppy, Unka Harvey."

Soft giggles fill the room at the boys attempt to scowl and only ending up looking like a ridiculous smaller version of his father.

"I'll seat with Daddy-" the little boy threatens, throwing off a leg off of Harvey's lap.

Instead, he's snatched off Harvey's lap by Donna who attacks his little sides. He squirms in her lap begging for anyone to save him from her much stronger grasp.

Shockingly it's Louis who scoops the small boy up and settles back on the recliner with him.

"T'ank you, Misser Louis."

Parker has trouble speaking. Lisps and stutters plague his speech and it's just an unspoken thing that Harvey's own stutter, one of a dozen things he just never shook after the stroke, is why he and Parker hit it off so well.

His mother and father could attempt to understand the difficulty he faces trying to pronounce words with more than one syllable, how some just get stuck in your mouth, and how emotions only make it that much harder. But Harvey, Harvey can understand. Harvey can pull him into his lap and practice words that Parker just can't get right.

"I didn't do it because I like you," Louis mumbles, leaning back in the chair and shutting his eyes.

Parker kisses his cheek, causing him to seat up and blush furiously. "Course not, Misser Louis."

From moment Mike was taken in by those Marshals, life shattered around them. A month came and passed and suddenly it was a choice between Harvey and Mike. Who would fall on their sword and who would keep going? Neither turned out to be the answer. If Mike had been the one locked up, Harvey still would have cracked but it was Harvey instead, who took blade.

Leaving it to be Mike to seat everyday hoping and praying that those stupid panic attacks wouldn't come back. That Harvey was his regular, hardass self and that the one thing that would keep him alive wouldn't get him killed.

The panic he felt the moment he got the call… he can't express the way it felt. He was terrified to lose his mentor, ashamed because there's this little part of him that's thrilled to be able to see Harvey, and this unidentifiable part of him that is thrown back years to when he woke up the night after his parent's death.

Things have changed since then and no matter how low they got, it was worth it.

"I have cotton mouf."

"I thought _'Harvey Specter doesn't get cotton mouf'_."

"Well, he does right now!"

"Mommy, I fink I have cotton mouf, too."

"NO! No, you do not have cottonmouth, baby."

"Oh, does Unka Harvey?"

"Yes, yes Uncle Harvey has cottonmouth."

"Hmm, is it cause he ate all of our pretzels?"

"Of course."


	18. Chapter 18

The lights are loud and the sound… verbatim. His clouded mind, grasp for the world to make sense. But he's whipped and bound in the amber of a moment that spins and dips in insanity. That oozes madness and claims visibility.

" _Harvey,_ " Donna calls out to him and he sluggishly lifts his head to find himself staring into the worried eyes of his secretary and long-term friend.. He's instantly warmed by the fire red hair she's pushed back. She's real. She's here.

"Donna," he can hardly hear himself talk but that's mostly to blame for the blood oozing from his ears from the perforated eardrums. He finds it in himself to wait for Donna to release his bound arms and alleviate the numbness radiating up from his shoulder blades.

Donna never moves to do that. Instead, she reaches up and takes Harvey's cheek in her hand. " _Oh God, Harvey. What happened?_ "

Harvey shakes his head, unsure of what to say. "S-Stephen," he gasps, his whole body beginning to tremble with the anticipation of being able to feel his hands again. The pain had ebbed away hours ago and the fear that had taken their place was worse than the pain. "Jail, got out."

Donna shakes her head," _it's your fault. You know that? You should have seen it earlier. You didn't protect me like you promised._ " She moves away from Harvey, speculating her own words.

"N-No," Harvey pulls against the chains, causing his body to painfully sway with his toes unable to reach the ground. "Donna! No, I'm sorry. I'm-I'm sorry. I should have protected you! I tried!"

Donna shakes her head, not believing his words. " _No, no you didn't, Harvey. You didn't fight for me like you promised you would._ " She turns back to him, walking so close that he thinks she's going to kiss him but instead she presses her face to the side of his. She releases him with a whisper," _you just didn't, Harvey_."

He watches as she leaves from the door she entered, only turning back once more to him before disappearing from his sight for good.

He shouts out for her, begging and pleading with her to come back. To free him and take him back to the firm. His voice gives out before she makes a return. When she comes back, red hair tied into a ponytail his voice is hoarse from his pleads and even he knows that she's a hallucination.

 

 

_Her hand grips his jaw, squeezing daggers into the soft flesh of his cheeks. He wishes to pull away but he knows better, instead, he remains prone, allowing her to spit venomous words at him. "You were always so stupid," she sneers, a bitter fondness seeping down like sluggish lava scorching his mind. "Just like your father."_

_She releases his chin, letting him sag boneless in the chains. "Stupid, stupid boy," she gently cups the cheek she's confused with crescent moon shaped cuts. Her right-hand draw the end of her finger down the sharp of his jaw, humming as he comes to lean heavier and heavier into her as the room hisses with the release of another unknown chemical. "Until then, my sweet boy."_

_He watches as she leaves, the flushed red of her skirt sashaying against the smooth tanned skin of her calves. His eyelids becoming unbearable heavy, his visions blurs and he watches as his mother is cradled in the arms of Bobby, his fake cousin. "M-Mom," his own voice deceives him and he drops off the unforgiving cliff of unconsciousness praying that next time, he doesn't wake._

 

 

Harvey's chest heaves as draws in quacking breaths. His shoulders rising as his lungs expand to counteract the lightheadedness taken over his nervous system. He's forced to concentrate on his breathing as the floor spins under his feet.

"I's just a nightmare," he whispers to himself, trying to think and breathe past the reawakening pain blossoming along his body as his sways from the chains above his head.

He jerks as he hears gunshots outside the door. A hiccup of fear tearing through him only to be stifled with the realization that unless that's the police, he's dead.

The door comes bursting in, sending debris and dust rolling in," _Mr. Specter! Harvey Specter?_ "

Harvey lets adrenaline run through him, suddenly wielding the power to lift his head and shout with joy," yes! Yes! I'm Harvey! Do you have Mike? Is Donna safe?"

The policemen pile into the room, their flashlights burning his sensitive eyes. Their voices make his head pound," _Sir, we're going to get you down._ " The leader, a dismal looking man with a sharp jaw and a deep voice turns away from Harvey, directing another agent to find something to cut him down.

The agent does as he's told and disappears from the room, leaving just Harvey and the lead agent.

"Do you have Donna and Mike?" Harvey pleads, trying to gain the agent's attention but his eyes are as cruel as his the rest of him.

" _Miss Paulsen and Mr. Ross are at the station,_ " his reassurance means little as the gunshots start once again the agent is turned away. " _Mr. Specter, I'll be right-_ "

Stephen Huntley is standing in the doorway, wielding a pistol and shoots the agent between the eyes. His body drops to the ground, dead.

"How are you hanging, Specter?" Stephen taunts as he walks into the room, carelessly. "You know, I've thought about this for a long time." Stephen lands an unsuspecting punch to Harvey's expanded chest.

Harvey draws in a wheezing breath, never healing all the way from the last round, he shudders at the pain wracking his frame. "Step-"

He's hit again, blinded by a shot to the head that takes him several long minutes to recover from. He heaves and his ribs flare in white-hot pain as vomit. His stomach twists in knots and he manages to choke up the acidic juices of his empty stomach. Too weak to do anything other than attempt to spit it away from himself.

Stephen is unamused but mercifully lands another blow, this one pulling Harvey back under.

 

 

" _Harvey? Harvey!_ " Mike pats at Harvey's cheek, rousing the older man. " _Are you alright? If I get you down can you stand?_ "

Harvey feels his body moving against his own will, being pulled and tugged at. "Yeah, I can hear bells ringing." The quote falls dead from his lips but he still looks hopeful up at Mike, praying that the younger man so much acknowledges his Black Hawk Down insinuation.

It soars over Mike's head," _that's okay, we'll get your ears checked out._ "

Harvey sags," you're not Mike." His voice is broken, a tangle of tears and pain. "You're no Mike."

He thrashes against the chains, screaming the accusation," you're not Mike! Help! Someone! Mike! MIKE!" He pulls harder, using everything he has left to break free," Mike! Mike! I'm in here! Mike!"

Mike doesn't come and Harvey crumples as his battered body gives out.

 

 

Harvey cracks his eyes open and moans at the sight of Mike. He curls in on himself and is surprised at the ache in his limbs as he is able to do so. This Mike is another lie, another person ready to hurt him. To lie to him.

"Careful," a voice comments, leaning over him and untangling lines he had not seen. He smells coffee, that weird low-fat bull crap that-

"Donna?" His voice is muffled, almost unheard beneath his the mask on his face. She left him too," 'm sorry." He rocks his body, ignoring the pain in his ribs as he does. "I tried to fight," his voice is a whisper, his words falling on deaf ears.

Mike and Donna set by his bedside, as they had been for several days.

Harvey was brought in clinging to life with weak fingers, the only thing keeping him alive was the constant mumblings of Mike and Donna's names. Occasionally he would shout out, beg Jessica to come back. That he would be better, that he would be the partner she wanted.

Now, the usual tan shading of his skin is absent. He's pale and sickly thin. His breath comes out in rasp and becomes erratic with each hallucination they fail to talk him through.

"Shh," Mike comforts, running a hand over Harvey's shoulder. "It's alright. We're here." Mike falls silent for a moment, just leaving his hand like dead weight on Harvey's shoulder. "You look like hell man. What happened to that expensive ass Tom Ford suit, hmm?"

Harvey doesn't bother to open his eyes, or even to excite himself with the possibility of Mike understanding his quote this time but he still lets it slip out. "Let's just say I woke up one morning and the uniform didn't fit."

But Mike chuckles and in turn mocks a teenage girl as he asks," so Reacher… are you my father or not?"

A sob breaks from Harvey's mouth, tears streaming down his eyes as he looks up at this very real Mike. "It really is you," he seats up, ignoring the tug of an IV in his hand and the monitor slipping off his hand as he pulls Mike into a hug, as best as he can.

Mike doesn't back up, in fact, he moves closer. "Yeah, yeah, it's me, buddy. Why wouldn't it be?"

Harvey shakes his head, sobbing into Mike's comfortable throw shirt. "You kept coming, I thought you were going to save me, but it was never you. You never miss Black Hawk Down."

Mike glances over to Donna," well yeah, who misses Black Hawk Down?" He pats Harvey's back, careful of the cuts and numerous broken ribs that lie there. "You need to lay back down," he says softly, detaching Harvey's lanky arms from his neck. "Get some rest, I'll still be here when you wake up."

Harvey nods, allowing himself to be pushed back down and reattached to the numerous machines around him. As the mask is fixed from where he had dislodged it when hugging Mike he swipes it away," wait! Wait. Stephen? Did you get him? He was gonna hurt, Donna." Harvey's already falling back into the induced haze of chemicals pumping through his veins. "C-can't…"

Donna takes his hand and reassures him gently," he won't, Harvey. He'll never hurt any of us ever again. So rest, just rest."

His eyes close once again but this time he's surrounded by the real Donna and Mike, the ones who won't hurt or leave him.


End file.
